


a curse in a young man's body

by Rosyredlipstick



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: AU: No COVID, Angst, Domestic Fluff, Flashbacks, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Mentions of blood & injuries, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Non-Explicit Sex, Therapy, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:01:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 42,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29293314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosyredlipstick/pseuds/Rosyredlipstick
Summary: For as long as he can remember, Buck has been wanting.-Flashes of this: blueberry pancakes, smoke, sweat, three truths to build himself on, greasy burgers, video games, doughnuts, sweet and light perfume, a loving hand running through a mess of curls, colored pencils, bad calls, good calls, broken glass, a bag of sweet bread, and a whole lot of therapy—a love story, somehow.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley/Original Character(s)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 169





	a curse in a young man's body

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is brought to you by "mirrorball," "cowboy like me," "peace," and "epiphany" by taylor swift, "LA Devotee" by Panic!, "Someone New" by Hozier, and "Blinding Lights" by the Weeknd.  
> Also this takes place in a universe where covid isnt a thing because you cannot force me to write reality into my escapisms.  
> is this accurate to any emergency procedure? of course not. but that's not what you're here for.

For as long as he can remember, Buck has been wanting. 

**i.**

"Evan? Are you even listening to me?"

"Of course," He replied automatically. 

"Repeat what I just said."

Evan’s newly twelve and his mother is giving him another one of her long talks. It was her strangest habit, that he knew of at least, and they didn’t seem to be stopping as the years went by. Maddie outgrew them around age ten, but it’s been two years and their mother never ceased. 

She was staring at him, impatient for an answer. 

Evan took a breath, tried to replay her last few sentences in his head. "I need to start training more to be of value for the track team. I need to show coach I’m the fastest and can handle the middle school team. If I don’t prove my worth now, there’s no reason they’ll keep me around.” 

She eyed him for a long moment, “Alright.” She had Buck make her a martini before she came down from her bedroom and she sipped delicately on it now, dapping at her lip, before she continued talking. 

She was always lecturing him on something—either on his being too loud, too needy, obnoxious, dumb. Sometimes, she’d rant on random other areas of topic such as explaining the importance of picking the right girls to date, how to order a meal at a nice restaurant, how to make people like you with only a few words. But her favorite topic seemed to be his future. 

She continued on the track team, Buck’s latest sport. He tuned her out as best as possible. 

Suddenly, she was reaching out to snap her fingers in front of his face, a serious expression turning down the lines of her face. “Evan Buckley, you listen to what I’m about to tell you.” 

He’d been stiff as a board this entire time, but somehow he felt it even more so. He gave her a jerky nod. 

“You are not easy to love, Evan.” She said plainly, “And that’s alright. I do anyway. But you’re going to struggle with that for the rest of your life. Listen to me. _Listen.”_ She stressed like he wasn’t already listening with rapt attention. “You can choose the people who love you. You can make it inevitable. But you have to be willing to be whatever they want you to be. I just want you to be successful, Evan, don’t you understand? Be what they want you to be. Make them happy, and they’ll stay.” She drowned the rest of her drink. “Remember that. It's not like you can rely on your smarts like your sister." His mother pushed his chin up, eyeing his eyebrow critically. "If it weren't for this godforsaken mark, you'd have an easier chance at getting along. But if you turn out anything like your father, you'll be okay enough." She removed her touch. “At least you can run. No one can take that away from you. You’re dismissed.” 

* * *

_“I guess it goes back to my parents. Love was - it had to be earned. I don’t know. It was never a given. I don’t have the right to be loved, you know? It’s like convincing someone. I’ve talked to Maddie a bit about it, but I know she worked through our parents differently. She’s doing really good in therapy, I’m really proud of her. I feel weird about hiding my own from her and the 118, but I don’t know. Sometimes I feel like everyone knows something I don’t about being a person. Sorry, what was the question again?”_

* * *

“Alright, mouth off. What’s the stupidest thing you did as a teenager?” 

“Ah,” Bobby smiled as he swung out of the front of the truck. “That’s a long story for later. Remind me next crew dinner.” 

“I’ll hold you to it,” Hen cocked her head as she thought. “I hitch-hiked a few times. Stupid, but I did end up meeting some real characters.” 

Eddie smiled with the corner of his mouth, “I went joy-riding in a new car with my cousins one time. None of us had our licenses, and we were out till midnight. Nothing happened, but my Tio was so mad I thought he was going to explode.”

Chim whistled, “That’ll do it. Buck? What about you?” 

Buck thought, then smiled. “Nothing bad, but I used to sneak out to climb up a fifteen-foot tree to see this one girl. Every Saturday night, eight o’clock, I was there.”

Chim laughed, “Does Maddie know about this?” 

Buck scoffed, “ _Please_ , she was the one who showed me how to sneak out in the first place.” 

They pulled up to the scene then, cutting straight through a mostly empty parking lot to get as close to the tree as possible. As they hopped off the truck, Buck could just barely see a hand frantically waving from the top. 

Eddie came up next to him, “I guess you should be a pro at this, then.” 

"Yeah, like I'm a pro at everything." He answered, cocky, much to their eyerolls.

Bobby got an update from dispatch, talking into his radio, and he turned to update them. “Seems like the two kids were trying to scale the tree, a university tradition, when the guy cut his leg open on a broken branch. Now the girl, who’s apparently terrified of heights, refuses to make a move, and the boy’s losing blood. Chim, Buck, you’re up for the boy. Hen, work on getting the girl down, Eddie’s with me.” They nodded briskly, breaking off toward their assignments. He and Chim both grabbed their bags and got to climbing. 

The girl was slightly lower in the tree, and had some small scratches on her face, her hands, from falling back in surprise after the guy was first injured. Hen climbed up next to her, examining the cuts and dried blood with a careful eye. He and Chim pulled themselves near the top, where the kid was loudly cursing in pain. He was clutching at his leg as settled next to him—part of the branch was still sticking out of the muscle but, thankfully, it didn’t seem like he had tried removing it thus far. 

Chim shifted closer to examine the wound. He started him on fluids. “What’s your name, kid?” 

“Connor. Connor Azo.” The kid was young, probably in his late teens, and barely got through his words without stuttering. He was pale, but the wound didn't seem to be actively bleeding much, probably more fear, at this point. Chim started wiping up the blood with a bandage, frowning. There was no bandaging it up, not at this point, and his other injuries were mostly minor cuts around the wound. 

Buck glanced at the wound, at Chim. “What are you thinking?” 

Chim’s expression was grim. “It’s deeper than I thought. There’s no chance we can safely remove it from the wound.” He muttered, just for Buck to hear. “We’re gonna have to take it with us.” 

"We'll have to break the branch," A thought occurred to Buck. "Or cut it."

He radioed it in. Within a few minutes, when the truck latter was then lined up to their placement in the branches, Eddie was holding out a piece of equipment. 

Buck held up the bone saw to show Chim, a question in his eyes. Chim nodded. 

“Is that a bone saw?” The girl breathed out, petrified. “Oh my god, it is.” 

_“What?”_ Panicked, Connor tried to shift around, instantly making him curse as the branch caught more onto his wound. 

“It’s for the branch,” Chim was quick to add. “No worries, kid. Buck isn’t going to be cutting off any legs today. What are you guys doing up here, anyway?” 

Connor calmed down just slightly at that. “We, um, we were on a date. We’re dating.” 

“Really?” Chim asked, climbing from one of the branches to get closer to Connor. “This is your idea of a date, stud?” 

The kid was terrified but still managed to get offended. He stuttered through his sentence, “It was her idea!” 

Chim shot the girl a doubtful look. A bit further down, she was hugging herself so tightly to the base, Hen was having a difficult time trying to pry her off. “You sure about that?” 

The guy huffed out a sigh, yelling down at the girl now. “I don’t know why you insisted on coming! You’re terrified of heights, Sierra!” 

The girl let out a sob and yelled back. “I didn’t climb the tree because I wanted to climb a stupid tree, Connor!” She sniffled, still holding tight to the trunk. “I climbed the tree because I wanted to be the person you climbed a tree _with!”_

Connor made a bewildered noise. “What do you even mean? We’re in a _tree!”_

Chim finished off the bandages he could manage, stopping the blood flow for now.

Sierra wasn’t finished. “I mean, I want to be the person you want to do stuff with! I want to have cool memories with you! I want to be there when you remember about that crazy time you got stuck in a tree and got the police called on you! Is that so crazy?”

“Technically, you got the fire department called,” Hen muttered. 

“Sierra… what are you saying?”

Buck shared an amused look with Chim. Now, distracted by the conversation, she was allowing Hen to take her vitals and examine a swallow cut over her eyebrow. “I’m saying,” Sierra continued, now crying. “I want to be your person, okay? That you do stuff with. I really like you and I know it’s stupid to tell you this in a tree with a hundred randos around, but I do!” 

“I’m really sorry to interrupt this,” Buck started, holding up the bone saw. “But it’s about to get much harder to hear. Maybe continue this on the ground?” 

He didn’t wait for their responses before firing up the saw. He and Chim had thrown on goggles, and Chim had shoved a plastic pair onto Connor’s face while Sierra was going on. He cut through the branch like butter, careful to aim the raining wood chips away from them. 

“Got it,” Buck clicked off the saw, inspecting the cut. He left a healthy amount of branch still sticking out of Connor’s leg, about a foot, but that would be easy enough to work around. 

Cut free, they worked on shifting him to a backboard and strapping him in. Eddie was already waiting on the edge of the latter, as he and Chim lifted it together and slowly, tentatively, passed one side over to Eddie. They hooked the backboard up to some harnesses and, so very slowly, lowered Connor to the ground. 

Hen seemed to have some luck with Sierra while they were cutting Connor free; both were now on the ground, safe, although Sierra was now crying into a cell phone and huddled with a blanket around her shoulders while Hen dabbed at her forehead cut with a Q-tip. 

They both took the easy way down, climbing down the latter, and nodded at Cap as they jogged back to the truck. Eddie was waiting there, standing against the crimson metal. 

“See?” Buck shot him a grin, smug. “Just like a pro.” Eddie just rolled his eyes, smiling despite himself. 

“Whatever you say, hot-shot.”

* * *

It’s Hen’s birthday and that means yet another party in Athena’s backyard. 

Athena pulls him down for a tight, fierce hug when he arrives and checks over his face when he pulls away first. She always gets a flash of concern whenever she sees him, however brief, and it makes him ache impossibly. 

Karen is there, of course, sweet and funny with a wide, red lipstick smile as she laughs at something Maddie said. Hen’s right at her shoulder, glowing from the attention, and Buck always admired their relationship, especially at times like this. They worked so in-sync—Hen could turn left and Karen would be there already, smiling softly. Karen would pick up one kid, Hen could grab the other, and their hands would meet in the middle without a second of hesitation, complete like puzzle pieces sliding together. 

Buck wrapped Hen up in a one-armed hug, “Happy Birthday, Hen.” 

She hugged him back, fierce. “Thanks for coming. I don’t see enough of you outside the firehouse.” 

“That’s for sure.” 

She gave him one more warm smile, a hand on his shoulder. Some of the other 118 crew were filling in behind him, meaning she had loads more hellos to give. “Go, get something to drink, food should be done soon.” 

He did, stopping by one of the coolers to fish out a beer, and swept by the table to grab one of the little stacked cucumber sandwiches, when a flurry of movement caught his eye. He paused. Right along the back of the table, Denny and Nia were crouched behind the tablecloth, a full tray of cookies cradled in their hands. They paused when they saw Buck, their little faces frozen in matching expressions of shock. 

He was the only one by the table. Bobby hadn’t yet finished up the ribs, leaving a tray of finger foods and a few bowls of chips, which no one seemed to be running for just yet. Denny and Nia stared at him, still as stone. 

He kept back his laughter but reached out to steal a singular cookie from the tray. He winked at them, waved at them with two fingers, and took a step back. Denny broke out in a wide, toothy smile and rushed off into the bushes—likely where the rest of the kids were waiting. He watched them go, laughing under his breath, and surveyed the backyard. 

Eddie was in deep discussion with Cap, by the grill, while Chimney inspected the already finished tray of ribs, occasionally getting his hand slapped away. Albert was a few feet away, talking to Karen’s younger sister and most likely tremendously striking out, according to the unamused expression on her face. 

Maddie found a chair after she walked in and hadn't moved from it yet, gesturing to her swollen feet and grinning at Chim whenever she needed something. Karen and Athena were now seated around her, patiently and wisely answering every question she had about childcare she had—which was a lot of them—and adding on their own advice or stories. 

“Buck!” Eddie gestured him over. “What are you waiting for?” 

Buck, helpless, went to him. 

Eddie’s hand came to pat his back, twice, and lingered between his shoulder blades. “Took you long enough. Chris is around here somewhere, dying to see you.” 

He thought of the tray of cookies and smiled. “He’s probably busy with the other kids. Hey, did you guys catch the game last night?” 

Immediately, Eddie and Chim started bickering about the final call, distracting them both for now. Buck grinned into his palm.

Half an hour or so later, when Bobby finished up on the last of the ribs and set them out for everyone to start devouring, the kids finally made their return. Little Nia wandered over to Karen, her little arms up. Her face and shirt were covered in melted chocolate, broken up M&M shells. Karen sighed, fond as she brought up Nia to her chest. "Looks like someone found the cookies." 

Christopher came up behind her, beaming at Buck, but got caught by Eddie, who reached out to wipe the corner of Chris' mouth—more chocolate. "Looks like _everyone_ found the cookies." He gave Buck's grin a suspicious squint. "Did you know about this?" 

Buck made a face, rubbed the back of his head. "Um. No?" 

"Buck totally didn't see us take them!" Denny said much too loudly, coming out from behind the table. "He didn't!" 

Buck laughed into his hand. "Thanks, bud." 

Eddie rolled his eyes as the rest of them laughed. 

“That’s it, Buck, you're being relegated to the kid’s table, where you _belong.”_ Maddie teased, “I’ll put down an extra placemat and everything.” 

Immediately, Chris turned to him, beaming. “I call sitting next to Buck!” 

Denny did the same, hopping in place. “Me too!” 

Buck grinned back, matching their excitement. “Yes!” 

There was a bout of laughter, but Buck kept grinning down at them. “Let’s get our plates first.”

Maddie rolled her eyes, going to grab more food to set out. “Oh, I’m just kidding, you don’t have to sit with them.” 

“You think I don’t enjoy the kid’s table, Maddie?” Buck shook his head, “This group has the coolest kids in the world! Of course, I'll sit with them!” 

“I’m glad _someone_ wants to,” May muttered as she made her way to the plastic-covered table. 

“I call sitting across!” Harry added, racing to follow. 

Despite the jokes, Buck did end up having a great time sitting at the designated kid’s table. Chris told him about his new art club, Harry talked about his upcoming class trip to the science museum, and even May piped up to detail Buck in on some of the drama with her friend group, mostly because she enjoyed his reaction to things. 

“Wait, okay -” He tried to connect the dots. “So Christina and Marie are sisters, and they’ve both dated Tyler at different times, and now they’re both interested in Tyler’s brother, Josh? And they’re both planning on asking him out except Tyler now likes Christina again?” 

She nodded, pleased. 

He shook his head, “And Josh likes Emmy, right? Christina’s best friend?” 

“It’s confusing for everyone.” She said, poking at her pasta salad. “And now Emmy likes Marie. It’s all one big confusing circle. I’ve debated graphing it out.”

“You really should.” He would need to, in the same position. 

Denny, beside him, took the brief lull in conversation to strike up his own. He had his Switch with him, next to his plate, but was quick to pull it out to start babbling away in excitement. Buck listened attentively, asking questions at the right places. 

Eddie dropped down a beer as he walked by, placing it right next to Buck’s almost empty one, and rolled his eyes at Buck’s pleased smile. He patted the top of Chris’s head as he went, entirely natural, and Buck had to force his gaze away, back to where Denny was recapping his favorite video game. “Wait, so the new update does _what?”_

Hours later, Christopher ended up falling asleep on the couch, his face pressed into the cushion, dead to the world and the laughter and music still pouring in from the backyard. Most of the other kids were in similar states. Nia had been put down hours ago, and Denny kept insisting he wasn’t tired as he fell asleep against Hen’s knee. The party soon wound down—some of them were on the morning shift the next day.

Buck carried Chris out to Eddie’s truck, Eddie only a few feet back, holding leftovers insisted on by Bobby in one hand and both Chris’ crunches in the other. 

"Get in," Eddie jerked his chin at the passenger seat. "I'll give you a ride."

Since the accident, more than a few beers made him too woozy to drive. He left the Jeep at home, expecting to grab a ride home with Maddie. 

Buck pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. "I can get a ride, don't worry."

Eddie gave him possibly the driest stare he could muster. "Get in the car, Buck."

Another, much more sleepy voice. “Yeah, Buck. Get in the car.” 

Buck smiled at the backseat. Eddie nodded at Chris in approval. 

“Well?” Eddie asked, glancing back at him. “You heard the boss.” 

Chris laughed at that, sleepy and delighted. Any resolve Buck had immediately faded. He climbed in, grinning, and met Chris’ waiting gaze in the rearview mirror. 

“Hey Chris,” Buck’s voice was already smiling more than he was. “Think we can convince the driver to pick up ice cream?” 

A screech of excitement, laughter, all fatigue now forgotten. Eddie shot him a mock-annoyed look but started up the truck. 

It wasn’t a long drive, but that couldn’t stop Buck from watching him in the driver’s seat, the orange streetlights passing over him in rhythm, the glowing restaurant signs playing across his face—his hands on the steering wheel, loose but never tied with a moment of distraction. 

_Careful now,_ his mind supplied. _This isn’t what he wants you to be._

 _Yeah,_ he thought back, still watching. Eddie was bobbing his head along to the radio — Halsey. _I know._

* * *

“Did they give us -”

“- extra ketchup packets, yeah.” Eddie passed over the greasy paper bag. “Pass the napkins?” 

Buck did so, right after taking a few for himself, and unloaded the rest of the bags. 

After an overnight shift, when they got off around lunchtime, they would occasionally stop and grab food afterward if Bobby didn’t manage to cook something up for them. Usually, they’d just grab something quick and filling, burritos or to-go containers of pre-made pasta, but Buck’s favorite place in L.A. was right down the street from the station, which meant they found themselves there more than was healthy. It was a run-down place, nothing more than a window they were handed wax-paper wrapped burgers through, with peeling paint on their sign and a minimal menu of simply “fries” and “burger.” It was by far the best burger joint he found in the city and, after his first visit, Eddie couldn’t help but agree. 

Depending on the weather, they usually either brought the food back to the loft, closest to the tiny stand, or ate it together in one of their cars. Today it was Eddie’s truck, with the AC blowing and their food spread out between them. The radio was on low, but he could still catch traces of it; the Weeknd, maybe. 

They had a paper bag of french fries in between them, occasionally brushing salty fingers, and their burgers resting in their laps. Buck had his boots propped up on the dash, despite Eddie’s annoyed eye roll, and felt smug about it. 

Eddie let out a breath, “Chris and I got into another argument last night.”

“What?” Buck lowered his burger, “about what?” 

“Just the same fight we’ve been having for months.” 

Buck clicked his tongue, “Ah. That.” He smiled slightly. “So when are you going to cave?” 

“I’m not -” Eddie shot him an annoyed look. “A dog is a lot of responsibility.” 

“Okay, but just so you know, I’ll probably cry at the shelter when we go.” Buck sighed dreamily. “I love dogs.”

“We are _not_ getting a dog.” 

“Yeah, totally.” Buck fished a fry out of the bag to pop in his mouth. “Have you guys been thinking of names? I always thought it was funny when pets had people names. Like, formal, traditional names.” 

Eddie took a deep breath, in and out. “No dog.”

“Even though it’s all he talks about?” 

Eddie paused. “Even though it’s all he talks about. God, especially after Hen’s party. Apparently, Denny was talking about their dog the entire time and it’s like he memorized the whole thing. I’ve heard how Karen takes the dog to the park in the morning four times this week.” Eddie picked at their wrinkled pile of napkins, taking a few to rub at the grease on his hands. “Do you think he’d be happy with a goldfish?” 

“Compared to a dog? Unlikely.” Buck thought it over, “Maybe a hamster? We can name it ‘Dog.’”

“Somehow, I don’t think he’d appreciate the irony.” 

“Alright, alright.” Buck set down his food on the dash and turned to him, a bit more serious. “If this was really a hard no, you would have stopped this conversation weeks ago. So, as much as you tell Chris no, you’re still considering it, right?” 

Eddie sighed, which meant yes. “I talked to Chris’ therapist about it after his last session. He thinks it would be a good idea if we could manage it. A small breed, probably. Could help with some of his anxiety, nightmares.”

“So like a service animal?” 

“Maybe. They’d have to be trained to, you know, not jump all over him. Carla could probably help me find a dog watcher when I’m on shift.” He leaned his head back onto the seat. “Dogs can be so much work.” 

“You’re trying to do the best for your kid, even if he doesn’t see it that way.” Buck said, “If you really don’t think a dog would work, just tell him that. We’ll find something else to help him out. Did you read that article I sent over? About PTSD in kids?” 

“Yeah. I mentioned the relaxation training to his therapist. I think it could work for him.” 

“We’ll get him set up in some classes.” Buck pushed his palm against Eddie’s shoulder, picked his burger back up. “Christopher’s the coolest kid ever. You don’t need to worry about him so much. We’ve got his back.” 

Eddie stared at him a long moment, his head still tipped back against the seat. “I know.” He sat up fully then, going back to his food. “However, we’re _not_ getting a dog. So nothing to worry about.” 

Buck smiled. He’d give it two months. “Anyway, did you hear what Chim did yesterday?” 

* * *

_"I still think about it sometimes, what my mother said. I know it’s bullshit. I mean, but why would she even say that to a kid? To her own kid? What shit advice that is. I - did she really think that I was so unlovable that I would need to change myself completely so I wouldn't die alone? No fucking wonder Maddie and I turned out like this! I just can’t imagine saying that to any child, especially - especially one I love. That's bad. She did something fucked, there. A twelve-year-old, Jesus. Sorry for cursing."_

* * *

“Alright everybody, let’s eat.” 

Immediately, there were sounds of movement toward the table, boots running coming up the staircase. Buck, who had been pulled in to help set the table, took a seat with a wide grin. 

Hen was one of the first up. “What’s for dinner?” 

“Southwest chili,” Bobby answered as he set down the large, steaming pot on a folded cloth. It’d been simmering for nearly an hour now, and the thick, hearty scent had settled along every single corner of the station. 

The table and surrounding areas quickly filled. One by one, they each grabbed and passed along bowls to be filled, then handed over. The fixings were set out in neat little containers in the middle of the table: shredded cheese, lettuce, sour cream, jalapeno, chopped up onion, avocado. 

“Did you guys know that California is the avocado capital of the world?” Buck spooned a few chopped-up chucks into his bowl, with a dollop of sour cream and cheese. “They hold a festival in Fallbrook every year.”

Eddie shook his head at him, smiling. He’d been in the kitchen, watching on as Cap cooked, and took the free seat next to Buck as the rest of the crew filed in. “How do you know that?” 

“I read it somewhere.” He paused, “Maybe on a package of avocados.” 

The crew laughed, which hadn't been his goal but a nice side effect. 

“Alright, good news,” Bobby announced once the laughter died down. “I want to hear one single piece of good news about you or your family. From every single one of you. Chimney, you go first.”

Chim perked up. 

“Alright, well, as you guys know, Maddie and I had a doctor’s appointment yesterday.” Chim always got so coy-excited at every mention of Maddie’s pregnancy. “And we got some news.”

There was a brief, excited silence. 

“And?” 

“We’ve decided to keep it for ourselves until the birth, but we _did_ find out the gender yesterday.” 

They cheered, excited. 

“Everyone except Uncle Buck, right?” Buck tried to clarify. “Right?” 

Chim flicked a saltine at him, making a face. “We don’t want it to get around the entire city before they’re even born, so, no.” 

“I wouldn’t tell anyone!” Buck loudly insisted. He caught Eddie’s eye and, as inconspicuous as possible, gave him a small nod like _except for you._

Chim sighed loudly. “Hen, you go!” 

She thought for a moment, then dipped her head. “So I took my first med school exam on Friday.” Hen smiled down at her plate. “And I think I did well.” 

They cheered for her too, as she dipped her head, coy. 

“I’m sure you did great, _Dr. Wilson,_ ” Eddie told her, smiling all proud. 

“Alright, alright.” She glanced at Buck. “Your turn.” 

Buck bit his lip, the grinned, “Oh, well, Christopher did great on his spelling exam! We've been going over them for two weeks now and he crushed it."

There was another smattering of claps, sounds of approval. 

“He’ll be a spelling bee champ before long.” Bobby nodded at him, pleased, and nodded to the next person, Eddie. 

Eddie sighed, humor in the sound. “Well, since Buck stole my good news.” A burst of laughter. “I guess I’ll be the first to announce that after two days of moving, Albert is officially moved into the Buckley Loft as of this weekend.” 

“That’s good news?” Chim muttered. “What? I can say that, he’s _my_ brother!” He spoke to Buck next. “You better prepare for a lot of dirty dishes and random women in your place.” 

“Prepare? That’s already Buck’s apartment.” Hen teased, elbowing him. Buck laughed, dipping his head. 

“It’s not bad!” Buck told them, taking a bite. ”Really! He’s a little messy, but it’s nice having him there.”

“You say that _now_ …” Chim trailed off, joking. They laughed and went around the rest of the crew. Buck perked up as soon as they finished, spooning up the last of his chili. 

“Cap?” Buck asked, “What’s your good news?” 

Cap smiled warmly at each of them. “My good news is that I finally got to have a decent team dinner without any interruptions. Now, who wants to hear about the time my brother and I stole our high school’s zamboni?” 

He was met with loud, unanimous agreement. Buck grinned.

* * *

“I’ve got this round.” 

The rest of the table cheered as Buck stood, shaking his head at their excitement. He had their orders long since memorized, a side-effect of going out with them every other week or so. He approached the bar, waved for the bartender when he was free. 

The bartender, _Aaron,_ his name tag read, came over and leaned forward onto the counter with his arms crossed. He had silver piercings in both ears, going up into the cartilage, and a shock of bleach-white hair, tan skin, short stubble on his strong jawline. He also had something dark and detailed tattooed on his right arm, but it was partly hidden under his uniform sleeve. His lips quirked up as Buck got his look in. 

“What are you having?” He finally asked after giving Buck his own long once-over. He had a small gap in his front teeth, hardly exposed as he spoke. 

Buck rested his forearms on the bartop. “A ginger highball for me. And, uh, two Millers, a whiskey sour, and a lemon soda water, please.” 

“Good choice,” Aaron said in approval, going to first fill up two towering beer glasses. “I haven’t seen you around here.” 

It was his first time here, the place had been Eddie’s pick, but that didn’t sound nearly as smooth as, “I’d say the same about you. I think I’d remember.” 

Aaron smiled down at the beer tap but didn’t look up, going to grab Bobby’s soda water. “So, what do you do, Blue Eyes?” 

Buck blinked for a second, then responded. “I’m a firefighter.” 

He tipped his head back just to laugh, “Of course you are.” He huffed out a breath, “Wow. Didn’t know I had Mr. July right here in front of me.” 

“Actually,” Buck made a faux-wince. “I didn’t make it into the calendar.” 

Aaron paused as he started preparing the whiskey glass. 

“I mean this in the best possible way,” Aaron said, almost in awe. “But if _you_ didn’t make it, who the hell did?” 

“Uh,” Buck turned to gesture toward his group. “He did, actually. The one on the end?” 

Aaron looked back to them, nodded appreciatively. “I can see it, yeah. But still?” He looked Buck up and down. “They missed out. Fuck, I would have bought ten.” 

“Ten seems excessive.” 

He snorted, setting out the whiskey next to the beers and water, making the highball last. “I could sell them on the black market for profit. I’m sure there’s a market there.” 

He set the finished highball down on a tray, collected the others to join it. He glanced up at Buck—he was wearing a slight, thin line of dark liner on his lids, barely there. “You single, Blue Eyes?” 

“It’s Evan,” He replied, “And yeah. I’m not looking for anything serious, though.” 

Aaron gave him a cheeky smile. “You really know exactly what to say, don’t you?” He reached out for Buck’s wrist and laid Buck’s arm straight to the sticky counter, produced a Sharpie from his apron, and scrawled down his phone number and name, “Just in case you get any more numbers tonight and forget who’s who.” 

Buck smiled as he pulled his arm back, keeping the wet ink away from his fabric for now, and picked up the tray of drinks. “Yeah. Uh, thanks. I’ll text you.” 

“I’ll be waiting every hour till,” Aaron tossed a hand towel over his shoulder. “See you, Blue Eyes.”

* * *

“We’ve got a woman on the fourth floor, apartment 403.” Cap announced as they poured onto the scene, “Dispatch says the doorway’s been blocked by some rubble, keep an eye out.” 

Buck eyed the building and pointed to the paneling. “This place was built in the 70s, right?” Buck guided his finger across the roof. “An apartment building like this probably has -” 

“Balconies,” Eddie realized. “On the other side?”

“Let’s clear it and go.” 

Eddie went off to talk to Cap while Buck grabbed the extra O2, checked his pockets. 

When he turned back to the scene, Eddie was already waiting and holding out an ax for him. “Cap cleared it, he’s sending in Chim and Sticks through the front too.”

Buck nodded and they were off. They were quick, climbing onto the neighboring shop’s low roof, keeping their eye on the flames trying to skip over, and jumped the short distance between the buildings. They were right on the balconies, thankfully, and they axed their way through into the nearest doorway. 

_“What’s your status?”_

“We made it through, clearing the second floor,” Eddie answered back. Chim echoed a similar response. 

They stumbled through an empty apartment, checking the bedrooms, and made their way into the hall. The fire was the worst on the upper floors, the fifth and sixth, but was spreading quick and deadly. 

They had just made it onto the third floor when it happened, lighting up Buck’s nerves like a thunderstorm. The building shifted abruptly, like the bones were stretching themselves out to one side—loud, creaking groans of shifting materials. Buck froze, and, without thinking, reached out to grab Eddie’s shoulder and violently shove him forward. Buck threw himself back, landing hard on his back, just before a flaming beam came crashing down in between them, taking the flooring with it. 

“Buck!” Eddie yelled, flipping himself over to crawl back from the gaping hole where he was previously standing. 

Cap was already demanding an update. Buck fumbled for his radio. “We’re okay,” Buck said, “Diaz and I are good.” 

A few moments later, Chim and Sticks echoed a similar response. Buck felt a wave of relief hit him, as he got to his feet. 

_“Good to hear. You’ve got five more minutes before I’m pulling you all out.”_

“Copy that,” Buck got to his feet. On the other side of the hole, Eddie did the same. After only a glance around them, he already knew it was better to keep pushing to the east side rather than doubling back. Wordlessly, Eddie seemed to understand and nodded, taking a few steps back and extending his arm out. 

Buck jumped, grabbing Eddie’s forearm to keep balance, and they moved on, huddled against the heat. 

They climbed a side staircase, quick, and made their way to the correct floor. On the radio, Chim reported that he and Sticks were pulling back. It was on them, now. 

“Apartment 403!” Buck yelled, pushing the rubble out of the way. It was mostly broken up parts of the fallen ceiling, insulation. He kicked the last major part out of the way and tried the door—locked. “LAFD,” He yelled, “Step back from the doorway!” 

Eddie stepped forward and held up the ax, breaking through the wood easily and pushing it to the side. The flames hadn’t made it into the apartment yet, but the smoke was as overwhelming as it was everywhere. 

They checked the living room, the bedroom, and finally found a middle-aged woman curled up in the bathroom, passed out with a wet towel pressed to her face. Eddie immediately set her up with O2, threw her over his shoulder, and gestured for Buck to follow him out. They had to go, now. 

They cleared the rest of the apartment. The woman had called in and said she was alone in the apartment but they were nothing if not thorough. Eddie nodded, radioed into Cap, and swept out of the apartment. Buck went to follow, but paused in one of the bedroom doorways, surveying over the room. It was clearly for a younger child, dolled up in pinks and yellows, with several posters of various animals taped up. His gut kept him rooted in the spot, weighing down his feet for a few beats as he glanced around the room. His eye caught on a large bag of feed, shoved in a corner. 

“Buck,” Eddie called from down the hall. “What’d you find?” 

“Just a second!” He yelled back. “Keep going, I’ll catch up!” 

He checked under the bed, in the corner. Finally, after flicking the closet door open, he grinned. He picked it up and rushed out of the apartment. 

Eddie hadn’t made it far, still on the same level, and looked over his shoulder as Buck jogged down the hall, careful about his steps. 

“What is that?” 

Buck beamed, holding up the small cage. “A guinea pig! I think its name is Stella?” He peered down through the metal bars. “At least, that’s what the cage says.” 

Eddie gave him an exasperated look. “C’mon. Let’s get out of here.” 

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” He responded, holding the cage to his chest. 

They made it out a few minutes later, thankfully without any more excitement. Eddie immediately handed the unconscious woman off to medical, updating them on her vitals. Hen and Chim were already waiting, tending to a handful of scared, soot-covered civilians. No serious injuries, it seemed. Buck awkwardly handed off the cage to the same team, never sure about the process with animals. The poor thing was probably terrified, but at least it was safe. 

They stopped to get an update from Cap before going back to the truck, leaning against the side for a breather. 

Eddie was holding his helmet in between his legs, ran a hand through his sweaty hair. “That was a close one.” 

“Yeah,” Buck reached out to punch his shoulder, grinning. “I got your back, man.” 

When he glanced back, Eddie was already staring at him.

“Hey,” Buck grinned, high on the smoke and grit and adrenaline of a call that could have ended very differently, but didn’t. “Want to get burgers, later?” 

Eddie took a slow breath, in and out. “Yeah,” he said, “I’d like that.” 

* * *

It’s a few days later when he ends up calling Aaron. 

He came back to the table where, of course, they had been watching the entire time with amusement. He set the tray down, and they had him hold up his arm, where the dark Sharpie was stark on his skin, and cheered when he did so. 

Aaron comes over on a Thursday night, when Albert goes over to visit Chimney’s place, and they watch TV, listen to Frank Ocean, and end up fucking right on the couch. 

It’s good, great even. Aaron is confident and quick to laugh and watches Buck in a dark, careful way that drives him fucking _crazy._

They talk for a bit; Aaron’s apparently the owner of the bar, and, by his own definition, is married to his work. The tattoo turns out to be a mess of forestry that takes up his entire sleeve, that Buck takes his time to thoroughly memorize. 

It was good, great even, and they make vague plans to do the same next weekend—casual, of course. 

At the end of it, right when he’s standing in the doorway, he turns back to smile slow and big. “Blue eyes,” He told him, “Break my heart, won’t you?” 

Buck has never wanted to hurt anyone. He could only shake his head, and dip his head low.

“Yeah,” Aaron let out a deep breath, smiling. “That’s what I thought.” 

* * *

A surprise carbon dioxide leak in an apartment building had them all rushing to the truck to pull out the Hazmat suits, moving with complete efficiency that had them dressed within two minutes. They poured back onto the scene in bright yellow suits, slim black oxygen tanks on their backs and heavy air masks clicked securely into place. 

It was a smaller apartment building, only 10 units in total, so they paired off and each took a small section to clear. The call came in half-way through the day, due to a few of the residents not showing up for work, which meant most of them were likely still in there. Athena was on the scene and working on keeping the anxious crowd back. 

It wasn’t until the second apartment they found someone—an older man passed on the floor, and presumably his wife, on the couch. They both took one, carried them out to the ambulance, and repeated the process. A small family in the third apartment, a single man in the last. The rest of the team filled out the rest of the small crowd, no one in serious condition. Buck rocked back on his heels, happy as Cap gave them the update. Then, he didn’t hesitate to strip his suit at the earliest possible moment, folding it back up to be decontaminated. 

When he jumped back out of the truck, Eddie was still helping in the medical tent, albeit taking a moment of break. He was holding his helmet at his side, his face flushed from the heat, still wearing his bulky bright yellow suit. 

Buck walked up to him, grinning, “Hot.” 

Eddie gave him a dry eyeroll but didn’t respond just yet. 

To the side, parked on one of the medical tent benches, a kid was starting to cry loudly. Her parent looked to be talking to one of the doctors but, before Buck could help, Eddie carried his bag over to the kid and bent down next to him. As Buck watched, he unzipped his bag, ruffled through it, and pulled out a bright green lollipop, giving it to the kid with a smile. She instantly brightened up, took the candy, listened on attentively as Eddie offered a few soft words, and popped the candy in her mouth. Eddie watched her, smiling softly, and waved to her parent. He brought his bag back to where Buck was waiting, going to zip it back up. He paused at Buck’s expression. “What?” 

Buck gave him a mock-hurt expression. “You’ve never given _me_ a sucker.” 

Eddie rolled his head to the side, “Really?” 

“What? I’m just saying, it would be nice to be asked.” 

“Buck. Would you like a sucker?” 

He beamed, “Hell yeah.” 

He held one out with a roll of his eyes. “You’re a child.” 

“Yup,” Buck popped the bright red sucker in his mouth, grinning around it. 

“Hey,” Chim said, jogging up to them, Hen following. Neither had yet changed out of their suits. “There’s candy?” 

“Eddie’s hoarding it.” 

“It’s for the kids,” He stressed, pinching his nose. The both of them stared at him expectantly. Finally, he nodded in resignation. 

Hen picked her selection from the bag, strawberry. “I’m young at heart.” 

Chim unwrapped a bright blue sucker. “Me too. I’ll say anything that gets me free candy.” 

Eddie rolled his eyes as Buck went for another. 

“One per person,” Eddie told him, exasperated. 

“What?” Buck held it up “It’s for Cap!” 

His voice was exasperated. “Sure.” 

“What? It is!” Buck bounced off toward the truck, where Cap was talking into his radio. “Cap! Look what I got you!” 

* * *

It was a bad call. 

Chimney threw down his helmet as soon as the truck stopped, storming off toward the showers. Usually, after a call like that, they’d have to wait behind for statements, a long talk from Bobby, but no one called after him

It’d been a difficult call for all of them, but the moment they arrived at the scene, Chim had seen an injured pregnant woman, nearly the same size as Maddie, and gotten a bit too close to it all. They let him go. 

These kinds of calls didn’t happen often, but that only made them even more devastating, like a wound never able to fully close. 

Cap gave his briefing to the rest of them, offered the general resources he always did, and went back to his office. He was limping, they all noticed, and was very much trying to hide it. From the way Hen was severely eyeing him, he didn’t have much longer to do so. 

They all went to their ways after refilling supplies and checking on the truck, waiting for the next call. Buck was holed up upstairs on one of the couches when Eddie found him. 

“Here,” Eddie held out a Gatorade—red, his favorite. He settled himself on the couch next to Buck, purposely loose and casual as he leaned his elbows on his thighs. He had his own bottle, light blue, between his palms. 

Buck almost wanted to laugh; as subtle as he was trying to be, Eddie was trying to check on him. 

His suspicions were confirmed when Eddie cut his gaze back to him, accessing. “How you feeling?”

This time, he did laugh. “Great. Wonderful. How are you?” 

Eddie waited him out, watching on patiently as Buck cracked the plastic bottle cap and downed half the bottle. He wiped at his mouth. 

A minute passed. Buck sighed, “What do you want?” 

“I wanted to see if you were okay. That last call was difficult.” 

“Chim’s the one going through it. You should be talking to him.” 

“Cap’s already on it,” Eddie answered easily. “So?” 

Buck leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, you really seem it.” Eddie’s knee knocked into his. “Talk to me.” 

“What do you want me to say?” Buck snapped, frustrated and hurt and wildly off-balance from the last few hours. “Do you want to hear about how fucking helpless I feel? How people’s lives, good people with good lives, were changed forever because I wasn’t fast enough? Or because I didn’t make the right decision at the right time?” 

“You weren’t the only one out there,” Eddie corrected him seriously, stern. “None of this is on you, but if you’re going to blame someone, you blame the team. What, are you pissed at us for how the call went?” 

“Of course not,” He shook his head, instant denial. “Never.” 

“We did everything we could.” Eddie told him carefully, “We made every choice the best we could. And we just have to let that be enough.” 

“Enough?” Buck huffed out a breath. “Enough for what?” 

Eddie was watching him carefully. Sometimes, like then, Buck couldn’t look at Eddie full-on. He settled for a sideways glance, there and back. 

“Enough so you can come back next shift, and do it over again.” Eddie’s hand came up to rest on his shoulder. “Enough that you can keep hoping the next outcome is better. You’re one of the most hopeful people I’ve ever met.” Eddie said, soft and serious. “You keep us together, Buck. The team.”

“I don’t feel very hopeful right now.” 

“Well, then let us hold you up for a while. That’s how team works.” His hand came up to squeeze the back of Buck’s neck, casual. “It’s how _family_ works.” 

Buck closed his eyes, breathed in and out. Very slightly, he leaned his weight into Eddie’s side. Neither pulled away.

A minute passed, existing in the moment. Eddie was the first to speak, his voice off. “Do you want to hear what Chris’ teacher said yesterday at the conferences? I took notes.” 

Buck let out a breath, a flickering smile coming to his lips. “Eddie, there is literally nothing I want more right now.” 

* * *

They were fresh back from a call, not even out of the truck, when there was some commotion at the front. 

“I’m looking for Evan?” Buck heard, right before Hen’s voice called out for him. He hopped down from the firetruck, messing with his suspenders as he went, and was vaguely aware of the curious eyes following him. Eddie, who had been in the truck behind him, hopped down right after him. 

Aaron, from the bar, was standing at the truck entrance, much to his surprise. Hen gestured to Buck as he approached. Aaron smiled at him with both dimples. Confidence settled comfortable on him, natural. 

“Blue eyes,” Aaron greeted him, wearing black jeans and a leather jacket in the middle of the summer like a heatstroke waiting to happen. “You forgot something.” 

Aaron held out Buck’s wallet, of all things. 

“Oh,” He blinked down at it, his hand coming up to cup his back pocket automatically. “I didn’t even notice. How did you - ?” 

“You’ve mentioned your firehouse.” Aaron cracked a smile at him, still holding it out. “Kind of a lot. I remembered the number.” 

Buck took his wallet back shyly, acutely aware of all the nosy glances they were attracting. “You didn’t have to - I could have come by and got it.” 

“Yeah,” Aaron was still smiling, as he obviously checked Buck out. His hand came up to where Buck’s was just, his suspender strap on his shoulder. “But then I would missed out on all this.” Aaron kissed the tip of his fingers, pressed them into Buck’s cheek. “See you later?” 

Buck was still blushing but managed to grin all cocky and confident. “Yeah. I’ll text you.” 

He walked out, his hips swaying—enjoying the attention. Buck turned back to the team, most of them in varying degrees of amusement. 

Hen was raising her eyebrows, but Chimney was the first to speak. “Who was that?” 

He could feel his face turn a hot red. He dipped his head and rubbed his hand along the back of his head. “Just a friend.” 

Eddie chimed in. “A friend?” 

Buck shrugged, looking away “Just some guy.”

Chimney laughed, good-natured. He liked having juicy info on him that Maddie didn’t have. They’d probably sit around and gossip, however lovingly, about him when they were both off. He doesn’t mind as much as he expected. 

Eddie was staring at him, obvious and waiting. 

“What?” 

Eddie dragged his gaze away, his voice stiff. “Nothing. That’s the bartender from Neon’s, right? Is that where you were last night, then?”

Chim, always eager for a joke, chuckled. “You keeping Buck on a short leash or something, Eddie?” Chim reached out and cuffed his knuckles against Eddie’s shoulder. “Let the guy breathe!”

Hen rolled her eyes and made an odd sigh as she turned away from the both of them. Buck almost wanted to call after her in question. 

Sometimes, it felt like Buck was on the outside of the joke, mostly when it felt like he couldn’t keep up with the conversation. But he hardly ever felt like that with Eddie, which is why it felt so strange when Eddie glared off into the distance, miles away from them, as the others laughed at Chimney’s words.

The rest of the crew moved on, in conversation and thought. But for the rest of their shift, Buck kept returning to the odd, tight look on Eddie’s face, feeling unbalanced. 

* * *

The thing is—it’s almost like they were different people on a call. At least, different from the “them” that existed in Buck’s loft, Eddie’s house. For one, on a call, personal space was basically nonexistent. It just felt so much less so when they were working, like the inches between them outside a shift were somehow ten times more. When they were in the firehouse, or on a call, it just felt so completely natural to reach out and _touch._ A quick hand on Eddie’s shoulder, their hands gripping each other to pull the other up, slaps on the back after a good joke, brushing shoulders, sharing glances.

And it wasn’t just that. It was another layer of _something._ Buck would look to Eddie, who would somehow understand what he was thinking immediately. He’d nod, tighten his jaw, and cut forward to exactly where Buck was hoping. Buck had never experienced anything like it—the secure knowledge of knowing when he turned his back away, Eddie would be there to watch it. It was almost intoxicating. 

“Medic!” Someone suddenly yelled on a call, and Eddie was off. And, like always, Buck was hot on his heels. 

“Eddie, compressions.” Cap stood back, watching carefully. Eddie bent down immediately and lashed his fingers, pressing down hard and fast. Chim had an air pump at the ready to secure over their mouth, his fingers at their pulse point. It was just a kid, late teens, with pink hair. She’d been swimming. 

After a few seconds, Chim shook his head.

“Switch,” Cap ordered, clipped. 

Buck knelt down, replacing his touch. He pressed firmly, quickly, putting his weight into it. Chim shook his head again. 

“Switch.” 

They did so, again. 

Chim checked for a pulse, waiting a moment, two. He nodded, “Got a pulse.”

“Temp’s rising,” Eddie added, smiling slowly. Relief passed over the scene, as they transferred the kid to a backboard. She coughed, twice, and sputtered up a mouthful of water—her family was crying, thanking them. 

Buck leaned back on his ankles and let out a laugh, full of joy. 

Chim wheeled the kid off, talking to Cap. Eddie stood, but Buck didn’t rush to. He dropped his head back, let the sun hit his face. 

Eddie let him for a few more moments. Then, he held out his arm, a wordless offer. Buck took it, as always, and followed him back to the truck. 

* * *

“Abuela’s having a get-together next weekend,” Eddie said one Wednesday night, long after their afternoon shift when sleep was becoming less of a distant idea and more of an inevitable fate. “She told me to let you know.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Buck ran a hand through his hair, sweat-messy. “Send me the time, I’ll be there.” 

Eddie nodded absentmindedly and scratched at his chest where a small patch of fine hairs curled. Buck watched him, obvious about it. 

Eddie glanced over, caught his knowing gaze, and scoffed. He didn’t say anything, his fond annoyance enough, but sat up. Still steadying his breath, he reached down to roll off and tie the condom, before throwing it to the trash and laying back into the sheets. He arched his back against the mattress, groaning as it popped. On his shoulder, where it would be nicely hidden by any decent t-shirt, a small bite mark reddened by the second. Buck felt a deep wave of satisfaction, warmth. 

Eddie rubbed at his face, looking wiped. “Fuck,” He muttered. 

Buck turned on his side, grinning smugly. “Yeah, it was that good?” 

Eddie didn’t jump to deny it. He gave Buck a look, almost impressed. “It was something, that’s for sure.”

“What can I say,” Buck folded an arm under his head. “You know how I get after a good call.” 

“Yeah, you fucking adrenaline junkie,” Eddie got out of the bed, letting the dark sheets slide from his body to the floor as smooth as water. “We barely got to the bed.” 

Eddie walked over to his closet, He was never one to immediately fall asleep or even dose off for very long afterward—he always liked to be in the move, especially after his blood got pumping. Buck admired the view. 

“I’m taking a shower. You in?” 

Buck forced himself to sit up as well, despite how his limbs wanted to fall into the soft, warm sheets. He felt loose, tired, and his body was aching in that perfect post-mindblowing-orgasm way. God, he was glad he didn't have to work tomorrow. 

“No, I, uh -” He yawned hugely, wincing. “I better get going, if I don’t want to fall asleep on the way home.” 

Eddie turned to shift through his drawer. “You could just stay if you want. I don’t care.” 

Buck didn't turn up from his phone, swiping through it just to have something for his hands. “It’s fine,” Buck replied, standing with a stretch. “It’s not a long drive, I’ll be out of your hair in a few.” 

Eddie, still gathering his things, only nodded in response. Buck grabbed together his wrinkled clothing and dressed quickly, wanting to be out of Eddie’s hair before he got in the shower. With firehouse efficiency, he was ready within the minute. It had only been a handful of minutes since they finished, Buck was still slightly dizzy with it, and he was sliding on his boots. The drive home was going to be hell. 

Still, he went on, first by crowding Eddie up against his dresser for a long, wonderful minute spent mouthing at his neck and running his hands down his chest, and then by also somehow managing to step briskly away, slap Eddie’s ass, and throw a grin over his shoulder as he walked out, cocky. 

Eddie called after him just as he was dipping through the front door. Buck looked over his shoulder, waiting. 

“Yeah?” 

Staring at him, paused in his own doorway, Eddie had a fluffy, light blue towel wrapped around his neck, and his hair was starting to dry curly from the sweat. That mark on his shoulder was definitely going to darken within the day, and he was wondering about the possibility of getting Eddie to let him see it during their next shift. Buck was so in love with him, he couldn’t completely breathe most days. 

“Text me when you get back,” Eddie only replied, a strange expression on his face. “Don’t forget.” 

Buck smiled, somehow. “I never do.”

**ii.**

“I think you’re too serious about this.” 

He’s seventeen, and his high school girlfriend is speaking up from her place on her ratty mattress. She’s painting her nails as Evan dresses, and he kind of hates the smell but he would never say that. He paused when she’ was done talking, staring up at him expectedly. 

Katherine Birkley was rumored to be the smartest girl in their school—people said Ivy League schools were talking about her SAT scores—and while she said she was too busy for a boyfriend, she wasn’t too busy for what she and Evan had on Saturday nights. 

It shouldn’t have to be said that Evan was never known for being anywhere close to the smartest. 

Before he could say anything, in confusion or hurt or whatever else, she continues. 

“You know this doesn’t mean anything right?” She asked, “It’s just sex, and we’re not telling anyone about it. That was the deal.” 

She stared expectedly at him as she blows on her wet nails; she has silver-blue eyeshadow around her eyes, some even on her cheeks. She does it messy on purpose, like the girls on TV, but at the end of the night, it always seemed more sloppy than stylish. The eyeshadow still made her eyes striking though, which was probably the point. “I know you’re not that smart, but you’re not dumb, Evan. We’re on the same page, right?”

Evan, tried as he might, couldn’t force any words to bubble from his lips. Kath had sat in front of him in homeroom for three semesters now, and he’d stare every day when she wandered into the classroom with her high blonde ponytail, tied with a pink ribbon. He awkwardly flirted for two months straight until she cornered him after school and, awkwardly but calmly, proposed a “mutually beneficial arrangement.” 

She was still staring at him. 

“I love you,” Evan blurted out suddenly, because he’s seventeen and it’s absolutely true. 

Katherine laughed, soft like the action wasn’t ripping his heart off. 

“You don’t love me, Evan Buckley.” She shook her head, smiling. “You don’t even know me. This is just sex. We’ve hardly even talked outside my bedroom.” 

He tried to do everything right. He did everything Maddie said that girls like with the careful listening and flowers, and he did everything that the other football players promised that girls liked even more. Kath had seemed pretty happy with it all, and he just, he thought -

“We can work this out.” Evan suddenly said. “We can talk about it. I mean, things can change. We don’t have to -” 

“Stop it.” She sat up now, ignoring her wet nails to push herself off the mattress into a sitting position. “It’s not that big of a deal. We’re just - we’re just having fun, remember? Seriously, don’t get upset.” 

She was the smartest person in their school, smiled at Buck’s stories, and ran her fingers through his hair when they laid in bed together. She climbed out of bed, not bothering to dress herself, and bend down to collect some of the littered clothes on the carpet. She held the soft, dark fabric in her hands for a few extra moments, staring down at it. 

“You don’t need to love with everything you have, okay? You’ll scare people off like that.” Kath sighed, biting her lip. “Trust me. It’s not that serious. And - and if it is?” She was still staring down at his t-shirt and that, that had to _mean_ something. Right? It had to. “You can’t let them know. That’s the worst thing you could do.” 

He tried again, “I _love_ you.” 

Kath’s expression crumbled, just for a moment, before her expression smoothed out. “You have to go.” She held out Evan’s t-shirt, “Cassandra’s picking me up soon, and I don’t want her to see you.” 

Cassandra, the head cheerleader, Kath’s best friend. Evan numbly took his shirt, put it on. The rest of his clothes, his socks, jacket, and shoes, followed shortly after. He turned toward the window. 

“Evan?” She called after him. Neither of them moved to face the other. “I think it’s best if you don’t come over anymore.” 

He wanted to try, one more time. He could feel the words crawling up his throat, out of his lips, almost violently. If he could just say it enough, if he could just beg and make her understand and finally keep the good things in his life for once, maybe she’d say it back. Maybe she’d let him stay, ignore her friend’s call, and keep his sports jacket like all the other cheerleaders. 

He swallowed once, twice against the words lining the corners of his mouth. Finally, he exhaled and forced his step forward, to her open window next to the willow tree he could climb down. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t spill his mess on her any longer. He wasn’t lying, he loved her, and that meant forcing his sneakers down the rough bark branches, hoping down, and walking the two blocks to where his car was parked because Kath never wanted her parents to know about them. 

Buck’s never been able to love right. It sounds more dramatic than it should, but it’s the rawest truth he can pull from himself, something he knows deeply. It’s a stark truth of the universe, of being a person, that he’s long since faced, digested. He can’t love people the way they want, and he’s always had too much. It was enough to drown someone, and no wonder Kath didn’t want it. 

He’s seventeen. 

* * *

The first time they hooked up followed their first shift after the earthquake. They had been in the showers, alone, and it had started with Eddie turning to awkwardly thank him for the ride to the school, and it had somehow ended with Buck on his knees, holding his thumb into his palm to keep his gag reflex back. 

“Casual,” Eddie had gasped at the beginning, when Buck was still pressed against the wet tile with the showerhead pouring down onto his chest. “This is casual, right?” 

Buck had pulled away for just a second to breathe and agree, “Nothing serious.”

He had met Eddie when he was still strung up after Abby, which was probably for the best, because it made that statement fully true for once. They were hardly anything better than strangers, at that point. 

Since then, they’d been hooking up every time they caught themselves bored, horny, and alone. It was surprisingly more often than Buck would have expected—once a week, at the least. And since then, they’d become a lot closer than strangers. 

* * *

The only bright side to not seeing your sister for a handful of years meant that when they were finally able to start up their relationship again, they were pretty much different people, which made it a lot easier to keep things, such as most of his relationship with Eddie, under wraps. 

“What fruit are they this week?” Buck asked one Sunday afternoon, sucking a strip of tomato sauce off his knuckle. Maddie perked up. 

“A pineapple!” 

Buck gave her a seriously concerned look. “Wait, really -?

“Oh my god,” She laughed into her water. “Like, the fruit. Oh my god. Not counting the leafy, green part. Just the fruit.” 

“Oh,” Buck relaxed. “Well, that’s nice.” He shot them a cheeky grin, “So when are you telling me the gender?”

“As you know, Maddie and I have decided to keep the gender private until the birth.” 

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” Buck smiled brightly, “So niece or nephew?” 

Maddie and Chim shared a warm, totally married look. “You’ll find out with everyone else,” Maddie reminded him. “Only three more months.” 

“So, you’re telling me those aren’t gender reveal cupcakes?” He gestured toward the plate on the counter, teasing. “That if I bite into one, I won’t find out the gender of my only sister’s first child?” 

“Feel free to draw whatever conclusion you want, but they’re Funfetti.”

Buck sighed, dramatically. “Keep your little secrets to yourself, then. I’ll be their favorite uncle no matter what.” He pointed his fork at Chim. “Don’t doubt me, I’ll go against Albert for that title.” 

Chim held up both hands, “No doubt. I’ve seen you both with kids. Albert makes them cry, you somehow convinced them you were their leader.” 

“Not my fault kids like me,” He said, proud. “You know, I can’t wait to be best friends with your kid. They’re gonna be so cool. Like, the best of both of you.” Buck took a bite of his pasta, smiling. 

A sniffle. When he glanced up, Maddie was very visibly crying. 

“I - what -” 

“I cried at a washing machine commercial yesterday,” She sobbed and stood to gather him into her arms. “Draw absolutely nothing from this.” 

Chim, over her shoulder, nodded grimly. Buck’s hands came up to awkwardly pat her back. 

She wiped at her cheeks, “Okay, you need to distract me or I’ll just keep crying. How’s work? What have you been doing lately?” 

_Eddie,_ his mind meaninglessly supplied for both answers. He took his time chewing. “Work’s good, as usual. Just going with the flow.”

She hummed, “You seeing anyone?” 

She asked this all the time, especially since she’d gotten pregnant, so he knew to expect it. Still, that didn’t stop his pulse from picking up at the mere thought of Eddie, what they did when Buck was last over. “Nah,” Buck answered easily. “Nothing serious.” 

“You know, if you ever feel like settling down, I can draft up a list of no less than several coworkers who would be happy to do so.” Maddie gave him a teasing wink. “Just say the word.” 

“Yeah,” Buck said, staring down at his plate. When he looked up, he managed a wide grin. “I wouldn’t hold my breath.” 

* * *

It was a Saturday night, it’d been an easy shift, and Chris was staying with some cousins for the night. Which meant they were going _out._

Bobby waved off their invitations, as he almost always did, in favor of some prior plans. “Athena and I are watching through _The Americans,”_ He said, sounding so pleased, Buck couldn’t even find it in himself to tease. 

They changed quickly, chattering away and arranging rides. Albert had an in at some new club downtown, and Chim was desperate to go if only to prove how unimpressive it was. 

Thanks to Albert’s connection, they got a table as soon as they walked in. Hen, Chim, and some of the other crew didn’t hesitate to throw themselves down, order some drinks, but he and Eddie went to linger by the bar. 

Buck kept his gaze on the crowd, unconcerned. “You going home with anyone?” 

Eddie glanced at him, then and back, before answering. “Yeah. I was thinking I would.”

“Cool,” Buck nodded toward the right, where a tall, curly-haired woman seemed to already be particularly struck by Eddie. “Might want to check her out.” 

Eddie gave him a long look before nodding, peeling himself off the bar with his drink in one hand. The woman immediately bloomed into a wide grin as Eddie slipped in next to her, tilted his head to the side like he did when he flirted. She reached out to run a hand down his shirt. 

Buck turned away. A few minutes later, he caught a waiting gaze of his own. 

She was his age, twenty-something, and drunk on it, and didn’t hesitate in walking up to him, giving him a look-over. She had a bright red top that ended above her belly button, big sleeves that cuffed at the wrists. She smiled up at him, lip gloss shining under the lights. "I'm Lily!" She yelled o **v** er the music. She had big, gold hoop earrings—one of them was tangled with a stray, frizzy curl. 

"Evan," He answered, his voice raised just as loud over the music. 

"Want to dance?" 

He very much did, and followed her straight onto the dance floor. She was good, dancing on him to the beat and grinning at him wicked at the perfect moments. She brought his hand to her waist, leaned herself into his chest, and smiled up at him. She was gorgeous, tall, and confident, humor dancing in her dark brown eyes. 

Her hair was chopped off right above her shoulder in a cute, messy bob. He reached out, laced his hand through her hair, and tilted her chin up with his knuckle. She closed her eyes, went soft under his hand as he leaned in and kissed her deep. 

It quickly went dirty—it was bound to, with the lights, the humid air, the bumping bodies that only pushed them closer together. Someone was kissing along the back of his neck, while Lily danced along his front, running her hands under his shirt. From his place in the crowd, he could just barely see Eddie, dancing with the laughing, curly-haired woman. Lily came up to kiss along his jaw, her manicured nails catching in his hair. Her lip gloss was sticky, strawberry-flavored. 

Eventually, he and Lily broke out of the crowd, grabbing water bottles at a side table. She was as sweaty as him, and gorgeous with it. 

“You’re good at that,” She told him, breathless as she sipped at her water. 

He grinned back at her, “You too. You mind if I buy you a drink?” 

She looked up at him, excited and sweet. But then she bit her lip, glanced over her shoulder, and grimaced at whatever she saw. "I actually have to check on my friend. Probably send her home in an Uber." She tapped the table twice with a long acrylic nail, the same crimson of her cropped top. "You got any plans for the rest of the night?" 

Buck shoved one hand in his back pocket, stretched out his shoulders. "Nah. Just hanging out here." 

"Cool," She gave him a cheeky smile, taking a step back. "Meet you at the bar in 30? You can buy me that drink." 

He agreed and, with his small break, decided to swing back by the table. Sticks and a few of the other crew were already gathered there, lifting their drinks in greeting as he approached, but he threw himself down straight next to Hen. 

“You’re not dancing?” He took another one of the water bottles sitting on the table, drained it. “Are you not having fun?” 

“Dancing’s not really my thing.” She smiled at him, amused. “Chim’s grabbing some more drinks right now. I’m having plenty fun.” 

He was probably covered in sweat and heat, but she didn’t complain as he curled into her side. “That’s you. You work so hard. I mean, med school? Kids? Saving our asses all the time?” He closed his eyes against the bright lights, the noise of the room. He wasn’t drunk, but it was a nice enough feeling after the pulse of the bass had lit him up entirely while on the dance floor. Like covering his eyes after a bright flash of light. “You’re like a superhero, Hen.” 

“Oh, Buckaroo.” Her voice was incredibly fond, amused. “You’re wasted, aren’t you?” 

“I’m not,” He insisted, because he’d only had two mixed drinks. It wasn’t his fault he got touchy-feeling after any drop of alcohol hit his system. Speaking of liquid...

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” Buck told Hen, sitting up from the booth and making his way toward the back. As he walked, he saw a flash of Eddie’s face in the crowd, on the edge. The bathroom was empty, relatively clean, both good facts. 

As he was washing his hands, the door creaked open behind him. Buck smiled down at the sink. 

“Took you long enough.”

“You were busy.” Buck turned to lean his hip against the sink. Eddie locked the door. “She seemed nice.” 

“She is. On track to get her masters in public health.” Eddie stepped forward to push Buck against the wall, looking down at Buck’s lips. “Has two sisters and a cat.” 

Buck kept his arms loose at his sides, “Really? You did that much talking?” 

“I’m a gentleman.”

“I’m sure. She’s into you,” Buck reached up to run his hands up Eddie’s back, the fabric damp from sweat, and stopped to rest them in his mused hair. “Maybe you should go back to her place.” 

“I think I might.” Eddie agreed, “Just after this.” 

They were kissing, hard and dirty, their hands clenching and rubbing at any inch of skin they could reach. Buck had one hand in Eddie’s hair, the other at his waist to push him in as close as possible to Buck’s open legs. They were both already breathing so heavily and hard, it was impossible to think that someone, somewhere wouldn't be able to hear them. 

Eddie leaned up to press his lips on his neck, along the stubble on his jaw. His hand came up to the back of Buck’s neck, petting at his hair. Buck rocked against him, desperate and high on the sweat, the heat, the pleasure between them. 

It was almost too much, and someone was going to be knocking on the door any moment. Buck bit his lip softly before pulling away and tried to catch his breath. He was probably disgusting—sweaty and flushed red, covered in strawberry lip gloss and a hundred other things. Eddie stared at him like he couldn’t get enough, like he was something to be devoured. 

Buck’s voice was rough when he finally forced some words out. “Why don’t you save some for her, huh?” 

Eddie had to catch his breath, but gave him a once-over, wiping at his lip. “You okay to get home?” 

Buck laughed, “Always am.”

* * *

 _"Buck, get out of there_ now.”

Buck ran forward, his pulse in his ear. 

It’d been a regular EMS call from a family complaining about headaches, sore throats, and breathing problems. Cap had called the evac for the building almost immediately, but there was one apartment that hadn’t responded to any of their requests. Buck, still in the building, made the detour. 

He kicked down the door without hesitation, breathing fast and heavy. He checked the apartment—thankfully empty. 

_“Buck, there’s a gas leak. Get out now, that’s an order.”_

Cap’s voice was stern, firm through the radio. When Buck cast a desperate look around, his eye caught on the window. 

He was on the second floor, and the nearest staircase was on the other end of the hall. He peered out the glass, took a half-second to gauge the fall, and then jumped straight through it.

He tucked and rolled, keeping his neck protected, and managed to land on a thick patch of bushes before rolling to the grass. Not ideal, but better than concrete.

A few mere seconds later, the building shuttered and let out an explosion of flames, blowing out every remaining window. Immediately, Cap ordered, _“Buckley, status update”_ through the speaker.

He groaned as he reached for his radio. He managed to twist mid-air to land on his side, away from his bad leg, but that didn’t make the whole process much easier. He pressed down the comm line, “I’m okay. I’m in the back?” He tried to sit up, wincing. He was definitely going to be covered in bruises tomorrow. “By the trees?”

_“Copy that.”_

Half a minute later, probably less, Cap was there, rounding the corner just as Buck was taking off his helmet. He tossed it lightly to the grass so he could freely breathe some of the clean, crisp air blowing his hair back. “Hey, Bobby. Great weather we’re having.”

Cap held out a hand and brought him to his feet. “How’d you get out here?” As he asked the question, his gaze was already dragging itself up the side of the house, pausing on the blown-out window.

“Jumped out the window,” He winced as he stood, rubbing his hip. “Seemed like the best idea at the time.”

Bobby let out a breath and smiled over at him. “The best idea is the one that gets you out alive.” He clasped his shoulder. “Glad to see you in one piece. Get checked out, we’re rolling out as soon as we can tame this thing.”

Bobby went back to the scene, gesturing Hen toward where he was standing. She jogged up to him, her kit hanging from one hand, “Buckaroo.” She greeted fondly, unzipping the bag. “How you feeling? Anything broken?”

“I’m feeling great,” He answered, mostly the truth. His suit had kept him pretty safe from the glass and branches, but when she reached out to touch his chin, it came back glossy red. He winced.

She grabbed a few bandages, a bottle of disinfectant. 

“Everyone’s okay? No injuries?” A few crew members were coming around back to attack the fire from the back, and some familiar voices drifted over the radio, but one was noticeably absent. “Where’s Eddie?”

“The family had some smoke damage and burns, but everyone’s going to be okay.” Buck continued to stare at her, waiting. “And _Eddie’s_ loading up the truck. He and Cap got in a spat, he’s taking some time to cool off.”

“A spat? About what?”

She clicked her tongue, _“Someone_ got himself on the second floor of a time bomb, and Diaz got it into his head that he could someone fix that by adding to the problem and going in himself. Cap had to hold him back, and words were exchanged.”

“Oh,” Buck looked away. “He’s in trouble?”

“Nah. I mean, you know Cap.” Buck winced as she began dabbing at his chin, the sting of the disinfectant burning bright. “He’s just relieved we’re all good. They’ll share some inspirational words back at the house and it’ll all be fine.”

That sounded pretty familiar. 

Hen cleaned him up quickly, as she always did, and led him back to the action. The call wound down pretty quickly after that, as Buck gave them the clear to start heading back. The 124 was staying behind to help the family through the next steps, but Bobby wanted them back at the house in case another call came through.

Eddie was already on the truck when they all returned, the fire out but smoldering. 

Hen waved him off as she returned to the ambulance, where Chim was waiting. 

Eddie examined him up and down, taking him in. Buck hasn’t yet stripped his coat, which meant he still had stray bits of leaves and sticks clinging to the fabric.

“Hey,” Buck took the seat next to Eddie, of course. “Heard you and Cap got into it.”

Eddie shrugged with one shoulder. “It was nothing. How’s your face?”

“It’s minor,” Buck grinned at him, showing off the bandages on his chin. “Hen said it probably won’t even scar.”

“Shame. Girls like those.”

“You know I’ve actually never met a girl who was into scars?” Buck wondered aloud. “Like, where did that rumor start? We should ask Hen.”

Eddie snorted, “Ask Hen what?”

“If girls like scars! She would know. Or maybe Maddie.” He wrinkled his nose. “Actually, no. I don’t want to know what she’s into.”

“Just saying,” Eddie said, “Chim’s got a lot of scars.”

Buck gagged, much to Eddie’s amusement. Eddie threw his arm over Buck’s shoulders, and he smelt like smoke and burning plastic—he must have caught something on his uniform. Buck grinned into the touch nonetheless.

* * *

_“I told you about Eddie, right? And, uh, what we do? I don’t know. The other day, he invited me to stay over afterward, and - and I had to say no. I mean, I had to. He didn’t know what he was offering, right? It would mean so much more to me than it would to him, and that’s so unfair. He was just offering a friend a place to crash, and if I accepted, it wouldn't be just that to me. I’d - I’d look at him, and he'd be sleeping and I'd just start putting more onto him. And that’s unfair. He doesn’t deserve that. If we’re going to do this, I can’t do that to him, give him that burden. I think he's my best friend. I don't know what I'd do without him. If he found out…” - cough - “Anyway, that’s what I’ve been thinking about this week. Um. How are you?”_

* * *

He and Albert were pretty comfortable around each other after a month of crashing together, and it wasn’t like Buck was very modest on his own, which meant most days he didn’t bother dressing past a pair of shorts. And Albert, who was more than often out entertaining numerous different women, was most of the same. 

There was a knock on the door, three quick raps. Buck rolled out of his bed, went to dress, as Albert beat him to the door. 

“Eddie!” Albert greeted. “Nice to see you!” 

“Yeah. Hi.” Buck pulled on some sweats, peered over the staircase. 

“Let me go get Buck -” 

“I can get him.” Eddie cut him off, stepping through the doorway to pass Albert. “I’m pretty familiar with the apartment, so.” 

“Okay!” Albert agreed brightly, wandering back to his room. “I’m heading out as soon as I’m dressed, but it was great to see you!” 

He grabbed a shirt, threw it around his shoulders, and began buttoning it up as he bounced down the stairs. “Hey, I didn’t know you were stopping by.” Eddie’s expression, if possible, only turned stormier as Buck came into view. He paused, his fingers mid-button. “You alright, man? You seem upset.” 

Eddie’s gaze snapped up to Buck’s. “I -” Eddie gestured with one hand and he, Buck realized, had his gym bag in one hand. “I was in the area. You left this in my car the other day.”

Buck made a puzzled noise. They had a shift tomorrow morning. “Why didn’t you just bring it to the firehouse later?”

Eddie made a weird gesture with his hand, like that explained anything. “I didn’t know if you needed it tonight.” 

“Oh. Thanks.” He took the bag back, set it on the side. Eddie seemed to be in the mood to linger a bit, so he turned around to jump on the counter, facing him. “So what are you doing today?” 

“Errands. Running around.” 

Buck smiled, sly. “You know, Albert’s gonna be gone for the rest of the afternoon. You could hang out, if you want.” 

Eddie looked him down, then up. “Yeah. Sure.” 

Buck jumped off the counter, grinning. “Let me put on some music.” 

He led them up the stairs, hooking his thumbs in Eddie’s jeans as they walked purely to annoy him, and grabbed his phone as soon as they were up there. As he clicked through his playlists, he began unbuttoning his shirt. He didn’t even know why he put on clothes in the first place, just to as quickly discard them on the floor. 

Eddie stripped his shirt, his jeans, reached in to Buck’s bedside table to grab the lube, condom. He threw them on the bed for now and crawled onto the mattress, waiting. 

Whatever—he threw on a random playlist, turned the volume on low. Eddie was staring at him, heated. 

Buck crawled on the bed, settled himself across Eddie’s hips. He ran his hands up Eddie’s bare chest, enjoying the warmth on his hands. He reached up, brushing his hand along his stubble, tracing his jawline with his thumb.

“You just gonna feel me up?” Eddie asked, unimpressed. 

“Maybe I will,” Buck answered, but kind of ruined it by leaning down to kiss him. Eddie’s hands found their way to his hips, slipping under the fabric, as they made out, slow and deep. Buck slipped his hand into Eddie’s shorts, smiling at the small hitch in his chest. 

Eddie pulled away abruptly, pinching his face. “Did you seriously put George Michael’s _Faith_ on your sex playlist?” 

Buck paused, listened, and burst out into laughter. “I put on the wrong playlist! Oh my god, this is - I was listening to 80s earlier!”

Eddie’s head fell back into the pillow, stared up at the ceiling. “I can’t believe I’m listening to this song with your hands down my goddamn pants.” 

“What,” Buck twisted his hand in the way he knew Eddie loved, “you complaining?” 

“Kind of,” Eddie replied breathlessly. “I - what do you want to do? Top or bottom?” 

Buck held back a smile. It was too good to pass up. “I mean I guess it would be nice -” He pitched his voice up into a song. “If I could touch your body, I know not everybody -” 

Eddie shoved him off his hips, throwing Buck into the sheets, while he laughed and laughed.

...

“Fuck,” Buck breathed out, right after they were done. 

Eddie fell back onto the mattress next to him, in a similar state. He ran a hand through his hair, his pupils blown-out wide. “I - yeah. Yeah.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Buck couldn’t stop cursing. “What the fuck was that?” 

“That was… good.” Eddie nodded numbly, “Really. Good.” 

“That was all you, Diaz. Jesus.” Buck tried to sit up, failed, then tried again with limited success. He propped up on his elbows, his head swimming. He felt like a collection of loose limbs thrown in a sack rather than any semblance of a human. “What the fuck was in your Wheaties this morning?”

“Maybe,” Eddie tried, his voice destroyed. “I’m just that good.” 

Buck huffed out a laugh, swung his legs out of the bed. “You’re pulling out tricks this late in the game? And I thought I knew you.” 

“Gotta keep surprising you somehow.” 

“Yeah, well, I’m surprised.” He stood, steady despite his loose legs, and rubbed his hand over his face. He gestured for Eddie to stay, grabbed his abandoned sweats, and made his way down the stairs, to the fridge. After a few minutes, he returned with two bottles of water and a carton of blueberries. 

“You never come to the loft anymore,” Buck noted, pleased, as he handed them both over. The endorphins were starting to set in. “It’s nice to see you here.” 

Eddie looked away, suddenly awkward. “I, uh, didn’t want to interrupt anything.” 

Buck paused, thinking of Aaron and his last visit. It felt suddenly awkward like it never had before. He, like Buck, hadn’t stopped casually dating while they carried on. There was Eddie’s experimental, short-lived romance of Chris’ teacher, but also a handful of other well-meaning, kind-looking women who swept in and out of his life with no seeming pattern. But they hardly really spoke of it, not like this—it was all just more of lingering stares, a flicked gaze, squeezing hands before pulling away. 

The stiff air was too much; Buck fumbled to change the subject. 

“Oh, yeah, I forgot - I won’t be able to make it to your sister’s surprise party.” He told him, climbing out of bed to some clothing. “I had to pick up a few shifts at the bar this weekend, tell Chris and Sophia I’m sorry I couldn’t make it.” 

“You’re bartending? Why?” 

Buck put on a new, clean shirt, rolling it down his chest. “Aaron needed some help for the weekend crowd. I told him about how I used to bartend in South America and he offered me a few shifts until they can get the new girl all trained up.” He grinned, “You guys should stop by sometime, I know Chim’s been dying to go somewhere new.” 

Eddie paused, “You’re still with Aaron?” 

“Kind of. I mean, it’s not serious or anything, but we hang out sometimes.” Buck caught an odd expression on Eddie’s face and turned to him in concern. “Really, are you feeling alright?” Eddie usually had circles under his eyes, a plight both from the job and single fatherhood, but they were darker than usual. 

“I haven’t been getting much sleep,” He eventually admitted. He was still laying in the sheets, a testament to his exhaustion. 

Buck reached up to trace under his eye, frowning. “That’s not healthy, man. Are you stressed or something?” 

Eddie watched him quietly for a long moment. “Or something.” 

Buck blinked at him, unsure. “Oh. Okay.” Eddie clearly didn’t want to talk about it. Buck reached out to flip the blanket up around him. “Why don’t you try and get some sleep?” 

“I'm fine,” He took a deep breath, almost like he was about to force himself up and moving, but yawned half-way through. 

Buck grinned, picking up a pillow just to toss it at his face. “Dude, take a power nap. The world will be here when you’re done. You can finish your errands later.”

“Errands,” Eddie repeated, before nodding. “Yeah. My errands. I - fine. I’m just going to rest my eyes,” Eddie said, rubbing his face into the pillow. “Just ten minutes.” 

Two hours later, Buck was staring down at Eddie’s phone, conflicted. It was ringing for the third time in a row, with Abuela’s contact photo flashing across the screen each time. 

_An emergency,_ he thought, _could be important._

Eddie was still sleeping soundly up in the loft, long since Buck had wandered downstairs to clean up a bit. 

Finally, right before the last ring, he hesitantly brought it to his cheek, “This is Buck?”

A beat of silence, “Buck? Where Edmundo?”

“Oh, he’s fine.” He rushed to reassure her. “He’s sleeping right now, sorry. I can take a message?”

There was a pause, then a sigh through the line. “Edmundo was supposed to pick up Christopher a half-hour ago. Usually, I wouldn’t mind, but I have a doctor’s appointment in an hour. I suppose I could just have him tag along.” a shuffling, on the other end. “Will you let Edmundo know?”

Buck grabbed his keys, “I can come pick him up, no problem. If that’s okay? Could you text me your address?” He’d been there a few times, but Eddie had driven each time while Buck handled the music, Chris yelling out suggestions from the back. 

She did. Half an hour later, he was pulling into her short driveway, biting his lip as he hopped out, went to the door. He’d never been here without Eddie and felt strangely lacking. 

The door opened after a quick ring of the doorbell. Abuela melted into a grin at the sight of him, all love and warmth.

“Oh, thank you, mijo.” She brought him down to kiss him on his cheek before ushering him in. She always smelt so cotton-sweet, like if clouds were perfume. “You are a lifesaver.”

“It’s nothing, really.” 

“You are saving me a headache of trying to track down my grandson.” She told him sternly. “It is worth more than you think.”

Buck smiled at her, honest. “Well, anytime.” He reached out to throw his arm around Chris’ shoulders. “Anything to hang out with my favorite kid, right?” 

Chris leaned against him, smiling. He was so excited to see him, he was waving his hands around in his braces. “Yes.”

Abuela helped Chris with his backpack, reminding him about some art project due soon, and when she bent down to kiss Chris on the forehead, the thin gold chain around her neck caught the light. Buck smiled at them both. 

“Tell Edmundo to _call me,”_ She instructed, her finger out. “Promptly.”

“Will do,” He promised.

“For you,” She pressed a brown paper bag into his hand like he was taking a sack-lunch into school. “Share with the boys.” 

He gave her another promise, and then she was ushering them both right back out. “Alright, alright. Time to go. I will see you both soon enough.” She stayed at the doorway as they wandered back out, watching them. “You take care of my boys, Buck!” She yelled after him. 

Buck reached up to ruffle Chris’s curls. “Always.” 

It was an easy drive back to the loft, especially with Chris yelling along to the music, laughing freely. He was a California kid through and through, blooming in the sunlight, the humidity. 

He got them set up in the living room, playing video games for a bit before switching over to some sit-com rerun. He was just beginning to consider waking up Eddie, if only to check in with his take-out order, when there was a sudden thud upstairs, followed by a groan. Buck raised both eyebrows at Christopher, humorous. Some shuffling followed, then a low curse. 

“We’re down here!” Buck yelled, taking pity. A minute later, footsteps were bouncing down the stairs. 

Eddie turned the corner from the staircase, a baffled look on his face. “Christopher?” He asked, puzzled. Christopher instantly brightened up as soon as he saw him.

“Dad! You’re awake!” He bounced in place on the couch. “Buck picked me up! He said we can get Chinese food!”

 _“If_ it’s okay with your father,” Buck added, smiling at him. He stood, brushed off the front of his jeans, and handed the remote to Chris, who took it happily. “I’ll grab the menus.” 

When he walked off, Eddie, after pausing to give Chris a quick kiss hello, followed him. As soon as they were gone, the screen switched to cartoons—some colorful, oddly animated show Chris was currently obsessed with. The television was loud, but not enough so to drown out Christopher’s free, high-pitched belts of laughter. Buck shot a smile in his direction as they wandered back to the kitchen. 

He went for the drawer of take-out menus, flipping through them. A few Chinese buffets menus were at the top, available for delivery. “Did you know American Chinese food was actually started in California?” He thought for a second. “After the gold rush, I think. Anyway, where are you feeling? Jade of the Orient or New Dragon?” 

“Jade is way too greasy,” Eddie said absentmindedly. 

“Yeah, it is.” He flipped to see if there were any more hidden in the stacks. “You okay? Feel any better after some sleep?” 

Eddie paused, “Yeah. I do.” He let out a breath. “I feel really good, actually. But that’s not - I just mean. You -” Eddie trailed off. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Buck cocked his head to the side, “Do what?”

Eddie gestured toward the living room. “You could have woken me up. I shouldn’t have fallen asleep.”

Buck waved him off, “It was no problem. Abuela said hi, and to give her a call when you get a chance.” He nodded the overflowing plate in the middle of the counter. “She also sent conchas. Chris and I have already called dibs on the pink ones.”

“Save me a chocolate one,” He paused, then continued. “Still. Thank you. I know babysitting isn’t exactly your idea of a wild Friday night.”

“What are you talking about? I get to eat take-out and play video games with my best friend, it sounds like a great night.” Buck gave him a grin over his shoulder as he brought the menu over to Christopher. “I mean, his dad usually sticks around too, but it’s not that bad. Chris, what are you feeling?”

* * *

It was a bad call, but it ended worst.

Not for the vics involved, thankfully, but because right after they got the truck, Chimney had blown up at him and didn’t stop until Cap put a stop to it. Which was great. 

Cap always kept the AC in his office pretty high—a side effect, he claimed, from throwing a Midwest boy into the L.A. heat—but Buck refused to shiver, even now. He was sitting across from Buck at his desk, perfectly collected while Buck squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. At least he let Buck change into dry clothes before coming in here. 

“Do you want to go over why Chimney and you had a disagreement during our last call?” 

Buck flicked an annoyed look at him, “You already know why. Why are we even doing this? So you have more evidence to fire me?” 

He held up both hands. “I’m not taking a side here. I’ve already had a talk with Chimney. I’m here to talk to you, and about the situation.” 

He didn’t deny Buck was in trouble, which only increased his tension tenfold. 

“Chim was upset because I jumped into the lake after the bridge collapsed without instruction from you,” Buck said plainly, clenching his hands at his sides. 

Cap nodded. “And why did you jump in the lake?” 

Buck clenched his jaw. “Because one of my team members fell in during the collapse.” 

“And?” 

“And Chim was pissed. He said I don’t think through things before I do them. Which isn’t true. I think through my decisions,” Buck told him, almost insistent. “I just - I make sense of it differently. Of course, I knew jumping after him wouldn’t be considered protocol. But also, there were four bodies in the water. One of them was a kid. Having another crew member in the water was much more useful than if I just stood around and watched. So I knew it wasn’t to code. But I thought it through, I did.” 

“And it had nothing to do with the fact that it was Eddie on the bridge when it collapsed?” 

Buck took in a quick, tight breath. “I would have done it for anyone.” And it was true. But he had to admit it, just to himself—going after Eddie, in any manner, was as natural and thoughtless as breathing. 

He watched him for a long, long moment. Buck stared down at the carpet. 

Cap tapped his desk as he stood. “Alright. I understand.”

Buck exhaled. “You do?” 

“Yes, I do,” Still, he frowned. “I can’t say I agree with what you did, but I understand it. You’re suspended with pay for your next two shifts.”

_“Cap -”_

“Buck?” Cap nodded toward the door. “We’re finished here. If you want to stick around and grab some leftovers on your way out, I don't mind. But you're done. I’ll have the paperwork sent over.” 

Buck stared at him in disbelief. He huffed out an angry breath and got to his feet, stormed out of the office and straight to the locker room.

He came to an abrupt stop right in the doorway. Eddie was waiting, leaning against his locker. 

Buck forced himself on, jerking open his locker. He cut a look over to him. “You gonna yell at me too?”

Eddie raised his eyebrows. “Do you want me to?” 

“Fuck, no.” 

“Then, alright,” He came over to lightly kick Buck’s ankle. “What’s the damage?” 

Buck frowned at the floor. “Suspended with pay for two shifts.” 

“Not too bad.” 

“What?” Buck’s eyebrows coming together. “You _agree_ with him?” 

“He could have given you a week,” He pointed out, crossing his arms. “Two days, with pay? He was being pretty lenient.” 

“I can’t believe you agree with him.”

“Why?” Eddie asked, “Because I’m the one you jumped in after?” 

Buck didn’t answer. He pulled out his bag, slammed his locker door shut. 

“Come on,” Eddie nodded toward the entrance, grabbing up his own bag from the floor to sling across his shoulders. “Cap’s sending me home early cause of my wrist.” A long, mostly swallow cut from when he fell. Hen had bandaged it up herself. “We’re missing pasta Thursday, so let’s grab some food.” 

Buck dipped his head, “Just tell me. Are you pissed at me?” 

Eddie snorted, “So pissed. You jumped off a goddamn bridge, Buck.” He jerked his chin over his shoulder. “Doesn’t mean we can’t grab burgers. You coming?” 

Buck, still so conflicted and confused and mixed up about Cap’s punishment, was somehow smiling, just slightly. “Yeah. I’m coming.”

* * *

He kind of loved dropping by at the asscrack of dawn, hours before their afternoon shift, just for this. 

“Chris’ birthday’s coming up in a few weeks,” Eddie says, turned away from him as he rubbed lotion into his arms. He denies it, and he avoids using the stuff at the firehouse, but Eddie is overwhelmingly concerned with keeping his skin moisturized. He uses the serious stuff, things marketed as buffs and polishes for extra-dry skin, and used a few drops from a single bottle of silver serum in the morning. There were three different kinds of lotion under his sink, and he used every single one. 

Buck, on the bed, had just finished wiping himself up, lazy and sleepy about it. He dropped the tissue into the trash bin, reaching over to Eddie’s side to do so, and smiled as he turned to his side. Chris’ birthday was one of the only events he’d actually added to his calendar, other than his work schedule. “What are you thinking?” 

“The usual. We’ll have the family over, some of his friends.” Eddie shot him a quick glance, “Whoever can make it from the 118.” 

Buck tucked his arm under his head, going deep in thought. “Have you talked to Pepa about making the cake? She’ll want a notice. Maybe that caramel cake he likes?” 

Eddie let out a breath, “I always forget.”

“I’ll call her later,” Buck offered, already working through the details in his head. “I’ve been meaning to catch up with her. She always says I don’t call enough.” 

Eddie laughed, soft. “You could call her everyday and she’d just complain you don’t love her by the hour. Trust me, I’ve been there.” 

Buck snorted. That sounded like her. 

“You want to handle breakfast? We’ve got cereal, if not.” 

“I’ll make pancakes,” Buck said, distracted as he typed a note to call Pepa. He replied to a few texts, Maddie and Aaron, as well before peeling himself out of bed. He stretched and went straight to Eddie’s dresser to pull out a pair of sweatpants and throw them over his shoulder, going for the shirt drawer next. They had a shift in a few hours, meaning they’d have to change into their uniforms eventually, but it was nice enough to curl into one of Eddie’s soft, worn shirts and live with another skin for a bit. 

Eddie was done moisturizing now and yawned as he shuffled over. He bumped Buck to the side with his hip, shuffled through to grab a shirt, and, just to be annoying about it, pulled the sweatpants already thrown over Buck’s shoulder with him as he walked by. 

“You don’t even like those,” Buck complained out loud, going to grab another pair. 

“So not the point!” He yelled back from the bathroom. 

Buck managed to dress without any more interruptions and made his way to start prepping breakfast. Flour, sugar, baking powder, salt, an egg, a cup of milk, and vanilla. 

He used to make pancakes for Maddie when they were kids. She taught him when he was still a fumbling kid and he’d gotten so annoyed by the process that he cracked an egg in her hair. She was furious, rightfully so, and both of them still fall into bouts of laughter when talking about it nowadays. He should send her a picture of a completed stack, just for the reminder. 

Buck heated the griddle, greased it just so, and poured out a small pool of the mix. He poked at the sides with the spatula, upturning it just slightly as it cooked, and flipped it when it was ready. 

Eddie came into the room, tightening his watch as he walked. He inhaled, smiling. 

“I love pancake mornings.” His hands came up Buck’s waist, resting on his hips. He rested his chin on Buck’s shoulder. “Add blueberries?” 

Buck grinned down at the pan. “I could be convinced.” 

The current pancake wasn’t quite done yet, but it was either take it off now or let it burn to a crisp. He plated it with the others, right as Eddie’s arms were winding around his waist. He set the spatula down and turned in to his hold so he could kiss him properly. Eddie smiled into the touch, deepening it immediately. 

It was a good thing he ended up taking that last one off the heat—there was nothing short of death that would have pulled from that moment. Well, that and -

Down the hall, a door opened. At the sound, Eddie took a smooth step back, turned, and started poking at the coffee machine. 

Buck took a deep breath and turned on his heel, and smiled, bright. He reached for the blueberries. “Morning, buddy! How’d you sleep?”

* * *

He finally convinced some of the crew to come by when he was working at Aaron’s, and he wasn’t sure if it was a complete mistake yet. 

"Hey guys," Aaron dipped behind him, his hand resting on Buck’s lower back as he greeted them all. “Did Ev get you guys all settled in?” To the side, Hen caught his eye just to mouth _“Ev?”_ in amusement. He couldn’t help his blush.

“He did just fine,” Chim reassured. “Although, I gotta say, Buck, if you’re so strapped for cash you’re bartending on your days off, I would have been happy to spot you some cash!”

Aaron leaned into his side, “Actually, he’s doing me a solid here. We were drowning. Not to mention all the money he’s bringing in just by standing back here.” 

Aaron liked when he was loud, cocky, always on the edge of telling a joke, and Buck knew well enough to play along suitably. “Well, I know what the customers want.” He said, just on the edge of arrogance but charming enough despite it. It was a delicate brew. He picked at the edge of his t-shirt, lifted. “I’m telling you, I’d bring in more tips if you let me take this thing off back here.” 

Aaron laughed, delighted. He came up to lightly pat Buck’s face, pushing his cheek away. “I’m not paying you to flirt, Evan. Get your pick-ups on your own time.” 

“If you insist.” 

Chim and Hen laughed along with their conversation, rolling their eyes at the right parts, but Eddie was sitting off to Chim’s side, strangely quiet. 

A strange nervous feeling came over him as Aaron turned to where Eddie was sitting. 

His voice was perfectly polite, “You need anything? Another drink?” 

Eddie went stiff, his almost-empty drink clenched in his palm. “I’m fine.”

Aaron gave him a lingering look, his lips quirking at the sides as his gaze flickered from Eddie to Buck, then back. Buck turned red.

Aaron laughed lightly like he knew something they didn’t and stepped back from Buck. “Well, okay then. _Buck,”_ He said his name teasingly. “Why don’t you grab your friends some loaded fries on the house?” He winked at Hen. “My treat.

“What can I say, I like him,” Chim announced a few minutes later, as he stuffed a cheese-drenched fry into his mouth. “I’m a simple man. Give me free food and I’ll love you forever.”

“Like a _dog,”_ Hen pointed out, biting into her own fry piled with jalapeno, bacon. 

“Speaking of dogs,” Chim gave Eddie an amused look. “Any news we’d love to hear?” 

That seemed to break him out of whatever mood he was stuck in. 

“We’re not getting a dog,” Eddie insisted. 

“That’s exactly what I said,” Hen remarked. “Start buying puppy pads now.” 

Buck was pulled out from the conversation after a few moments, Aaron coming up to squeeze his arm. He gave Buck a knowing, teasing grin.

“Evan,” Aaron peeked over his shoulder. “Want to go charm the patrons at the end? They’re big spenders.” He patted Buck’s cheek. “And I have a feeling you’d be able to work them better than I ever could.” 

Buck smiled at him, sharp. “My calling awaits.” He grabbed a rag, an empty glass, and did as told. It was easy enough, a tipsy group of loud, excited college girls, who were happy enough to tease and poke at him as he made up their tray of brightly colored, sugary drinks. They seemed especially taken with his eyes and his arms, and each shoved a folded napkin over at him with a tip after he handed their drinks over. From the side, Aaron gave him an amused roll of his eyes. 

When he returned, an extra few handfuls of folded tips in his apron, Eddie was staring at him, narrow-eyed. “Why are you acting weird?”

Buck, as always, rose to the challenge. No one could wind him up like Eddie in a bad mood. “I’m not acting weird. If anything, you’re the one who’s acting weird, the hell?”

“You’re acting like a completely different person.” 

“Oh, let him be.” Chim shoved Eddie’s shoulder. “All of us have friends outside the 118, it’s encouraged even! He’s bound to act differently around people who aren’t his coworkers.”

Eddie gave Chim the side-eye, “Really? What friends do you have outside the house?”

Chim smiled, softly. “Maddie’s my best friend.”

That was disgusting. “Gross,” Buck wrinkled his nose. “Maddie’s cool, but gross.”

“And that doesn’t count,” Eddie argued, “Your girlfriend can’t be your best friend.”

“Fiancée.” Chim corrected him, right before Hen spoke up.

“Well, that’s bull. Karen’s one of my closest friends.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, “Yeah, but she’s not your _best_ friend. Athena’s your best friend, right?”

Hen narrowed her eyes at him, “So who’s your best friend, Eddie? If you can’t have one person as both, who’s your best friend?”

Eddie turned a bright red.

He wasn’t sure what he wanted to hear from Eddie—how Eddie would classify him—and busied himself with wiping down the counter. An awkward beat passed but then, at that moment, a patron on the other end of the bar flagged for another drink. Buck shot them all a quick grin before making his escape.

* * *

A few days later, they were alone in the locker room. 

Everyone in their shift had left, and the next crew had already been called away almost immediately. Sticks, who had been deemed the man behind, was busy with cleaning down and decontaminating one of the ambulances from their last calls. Which left just the two of them, lingering and alone. 

They were _alone._

Buck was sitting along the bench, Eddie in his lap. He had crawled in his lap almost the moment he sat down, desperate. He tugged him forward by the collar and tipped up his chin so he could suck on his neck, right at his pulse point. They were both still wearing their navy 118 shirts, and Buck was never sure if he adored or downright despised Eddie in his own. 

God, whatever had gotten into Eddie—Buck wasn’t complaining, that’s for sure. His hand came up along Eddie's back, slipping under the fabric to clench at his hot skin. In response, Eddie rolled his hips against Buck’s, clearly enjoying the cut-off groan that spilled from his lips. Buck’s hand drifted down to clenched at Eddie’s arm and curled tight around his tattoo. 

Eddie pulled back, came right back to kiss him deeply for another minute, and then pulled back once again. “We’re not having sex in the locker room.” 

“Well, that’s not a very can-do attitude.” 

“Buck,” Eddie said carefully, “we are _not_ having sex in the locker room.” 

Buck kissed along Eddie’s neck, sucking at the skin below the collar. “Yeah, sure.” 

Eddie’s hands were tight on Buck’s shoulder. “We’re not.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” 

“I _mean_ it.”

“Eddie,” Buck pulled away just momentarily. He glanced down to where Eddie’s hips were still grinding wonderfully against his own. Buck’s head fell back, hitting the locker door behind him. “I’ll stop when you do, deal?” 

Eddie’s eyes flicked down to his lips, “Deal.” 

Buck grinned right into their next kiss, smug.

* * *

As a rule of the universe, when he wakes up in the middle of the night, he thinks about Eddie. 

Even before he knew what their relationship was turning into, that was true. Since the day they met, basically. At first—annoyed thoughts about Eddie’s cocky attitude, then begrudging respect after the bomb threat. Later, it was replaced entirely by pleased satisfaction, vague excitement. 

Buck’s never had much luck with sleeping through the night. It didn’t bother him much in the long run, most nights he just rolled over and tried to fall back asleep, but his thoughts were persistent. 

_What was Eddie doing? Was he okay? He seemed off, during their shift. How was Chris? Was his art project going well? Did Eddie remember to pick up extra construction paper last night?_

He could hear Albert’s snoring from here, but that didn’t bother him. From their long, night shifts when they’d nap till a call came in, Buck knew Eddie didn’t snore. He was still and quiet, able to fall asleep anywhere as long as he could tip his head to the side. 

Buck stared up at the ceiling, breathed easy. He knew this wasn’t going to be easy, right when their hooking up started to not just be that for him. He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment their relationship changed for him. Maybe it was after Buck met Christopher, or when Eddie started to off-hand invite him over to whatever Diaz celebration was happening that weekend, or the first, second, tenth time Eddie saved his ass. Maybe it was after that first time in the showers, when Eddie ran his hand through Buck’s wet hair afterward and kissed him dirty against the tile. 

Maybe it was none of it, maybe loving him was just something so inevitable it couldn’t be pinned down to one single moment. Maybe, it was every moment rolled up into one single damning thing.

He rolled over, buried his face in a pillow. This was never going to be easy, he knew, but he could at least try to sleep in between the heartache. 

Soon enough, he was asleep.

* * *

“118, _let’s go!”_

Buck threw himself forward, clenching his ax. He squared his shoulders, checked his helmet, and ran right after Eddie through the smokey doorway. 

It was their first real, truly destructive fire in a while. It was so, so easy to forget how terrifying it was when most of their shifts found them at car crashes, EMS calls, or nuisance fires. 

They were searching for some young kid, sixteen, who had been holed up in their father’s apartment and wasn’t yet accounted for. Smoke was spilling out from everywhere, clinging and choking every surface. 

Chim and Hen were trying alternate rooms on the first floor, clearing out the community center and apartment office, while Sticks and Peyton went off starting at the sixth floor, the closest clear floor the truck latter could reach. He and Eddie were going in on the second floor—most of the fourth floor was lit up, from what they knew. They would have to be fast, and good at their jobs—both of which they all were. 

He and Eddie marched through the halls, rushing as much as they could through the active flames. It was so hot, the heat was blurring the smoke and dim coloring of the air together. 

Eddie was muttering an update into his radio, giving Cap their location, when a sudden, heavy creaking forcibly interrupted him. Buck ducked down, a splitting crack roaring in his ear, so impossibly loud. The air shifted violently, and something came up to hit him hard in the middle of his back that pushed him stumbling forward into the burning carpet, and then the floor came down where he was just standing. 

Where _Eddie_ had just been standing.

Buck flipped himself forward, choking already, and scrambled to the edge of the deep, smokey hole. He was choking on his words, on Eddie’s name, but it all left him in an all-encompassing wave of relief as an arm came out of the hole. Eddie had broken through the flooring but managed to catch himself as he fell. He hung off the edge, right where the flooring had broken through and taken out the flooring underneath. 

He scrambled to catch hold of Eddie’s sliding hands, cursing loudly, and used every bit of his strength to pull him up beside him. Eddie gasped for breath, still clenching Buck’s hands as they laid there for a quick, steady moment. 

There was no time to waste. Buck sat up, frantically checking him over. “Are you okay?” 

Eddie cursed, bringing himself up to his elbows. “My ankle, it got stuck in the floor, _fuck.”_

He radioed to Cap, “Eddie fell through some wood, hurt his ankle..” 

Immediately, a reply. _“Can he walk?”_

Buck turned on his radio but found himself lost for words. He watched as Eddie tried, and failed, to stand on his own. 

“It’s not broken,” He insisted, almost completely keeping the weight off his foot. His hand came up to clench at Buck’s shoulder for balance. 

_“118, report.”_

The smoke was getting thicker, hotter. Sticks radioed in, saying they found the kid under one of the beds. Good, that was… good. 

Eddie was swaying on his feet—did he hit his head on the way down?—and as he watched, took a single, slow step away from Buck, testing his walk. He reached up to click at his radio. “I can walk. We’re heading back out.” 

_“Copy that.”_

Buck reached up to click his radio but found himself lost for words. Eddie took a measured, careful step, away from him, and Buck stepped forward. “I’ll carry you.” 

Eddie shot him an impossible look, took another unsteady step. They didn’t have the time for this. “I’m fine, let’s go.” 

“Eddie,” Buck stressed his name, coming up beside him. There wasn’t any blood, but he was covered in soot and shattered pieces of wood. “You know it would be best, faster. Let’s go.” 

“I can walk, you’re not carrying me out of here -” Another loud crack, the building shifting. 

Since the beginning, they’ve been honest with each other, brutally so. 

“Yes, I am.” Buck cut him off before he could go any longer. “It will be quicker if I threw you over my shoulder and carried you out myself.” He met Eddie’s gaze, serious. “We don’t have the time to spare. I need to take you and run, that’s what’s going to happen, and you need to go along with it.” Buck held out his arms, gesturing Eddie forward. “Either both or neither of us are getting out today, and we can’t leave Christopher. We don’t have any time, I’m throwing you over my shoulder, let’s go.” 

Eddie stared at him for a single breath, at Buck’s wide-eyed and pleading expression. When they were at their best, they were such a great team; entire conversations were spread out between them in quick glances. He finally nodded, briskly, and Buck didn’t hesitate to bend, transfer his weight onto his back, and adjust his balance accordingly. 

This was what they trained for, what Buck had fought to do with every cell of his being. He could do this. 

The building was a strong wind away from coming down on itself, and they were on the second floor. The way they came was a goner, but the emergency staircase had to be somewhere around here—from their reports, it was bound to be usable still, protected by the meat of the building. He hurried forward, so incredibly conscious on keeping Eddie clear from any wall, rubble, sudden flames. 

When he saw the EXIT sign at the top of the wall, barely distinct from the dim, red flames, he could have sobbed in relief. He kicked open the door, bounced down the staircase, and escaped through the side exit at the very bottom. 

Fresh air rushed at them as soon as he shouldered the door open, almost stumbling forward at the change from concrete to gravel, and made his way onto the fresh, solid ground. Cap whipped toward them as soon as they emerged, already directing a team toward them.

As soon as they were clear from the building, Buck let Eddie to his feet, his arm held out to keep him steady. His ankle was bound to be the size of a baseball by now, but he managed to remain standing. 

Eddie caught his wrist, his hold tight, and waited to catch his gaze. Soft, he said, “Thanks, man.” 

There was no hesitation, “Always.” 

Chim was there immediately, checking them both over. Buck was fine, but Eddie was quickly ushered off to limp toward the ambulance, his arm thrown over Chim’s shoulder. An update over their radio: the building was cleared. 

Buck let out a breath, took off his helmet to breathe real, slightly smokey air. He felt the wind against his face, cool. 

The rest of the crew was working on the fire, but Cap was pulled back from the scene directing all the chaos. When Buck came walking in close, he nodded away a small group of crew. Buck leaned against the truck. Bobby joined him.

“You make it through alright?” 

Buck nodded, “I’m fine. It was just Eddie’s ankle.” 

Bobby hummed. There was a small silence, then, “‘Both or neither,’ huh?” 

Buck froze. 

Bobby was giving him a long look, waiting for his response. He scrambled for words. 

He settled with just rubbing a hand over his face. “How?” 

“You left your radio on. At least it was just on the 118 channel, yeah?” Bobby turned his face away, taking in the scene. 

“I…” Buck trailed off. He didn’t know what else to say except, “I’m sorry.” 

Bobby shook his head. “That’s not what I’m wanting to hear.” 

He was never good at expectations. “Then what are you?” 

“Buck, I need to know that when it comes to it, you’ll make the right call. Our whole job depends on it, on making tough but good choices. I _need_ to know you can do that.” His lips smoothed out into a thin line. “You both got out, and I’m grateful for that. At the end of a shift, I'll always be grateful for that." 

He swallowed, “Am I in trouble?”

“Of course not,” He looked away. “That’d make me the world’s biggest hypocrite. I just want you to know we’re a team, we love you both, but our job is dangerous, and it’s hard. One day, you might need to make a hard decision, and I need to know you’re going to do the best for yourself. That if you needed to, you’d get yourself out of there.” 

_A_ hard _decision,_ Buck thought, _like leaving someone behind_ _—_ _Eddie, behind_ _—_ _wouldn’t be the most implausible, unthinkable thing to do._

But Bobby must know this already. He was their Captain, he probably knew better than most, and he also knew exactly who Buck was. 

He watched the building, what remained of it. He always thought the smoke, the aftermath, was one of the worst parts of a fire. It drifted up into the afternoon sky as he watched, gray and bitter. Buck shook his head. “I’m sorry, Bobby.” He repeated, entirely different. “I really am.” 

Bobby watches him for the rest of the shift, after that. Buck’s not fully sure what he’s searching for, if he’s found anything, if he’d even tell Buck if he did. But there’s nothing he can do about that, at this point, and so doesn’t hesitate to slap Eddie’s back as he rounds the medical tent and drops down next to him, grinning. 

* * *

_“For the longest time, I guess Maddie was my only family. The 118 changed that. I would do anything, for any single one of them. That’s what family is, not whatever my parents were pushing.” There was a beat of silence. “When I think about family, I think of Eddie and Christopher. I think about making food for them, helping Chris with his homework, Eddie making hot chocolate for all of us. I think about their towels, isn’t that stupid? I don’t know. They’re light blue, and so soft, and smell like lavender because Eddie read that it can help reduce stress in kids. You know, after the tsunami, Eddie told me that there was no one else in the world he trusted with Christopher more than me and - I think about that a lot. I think that’s the best thing anyone’s ever told me.”_

* * *

It was half-past midnight and Buck’s cell was ringing. 

That, in itself, isn’t as uncommon as it once was. There’s always some emergency that needs an extra hand, a shift that needs to be covered, a midnight favor—usually from Cap, maybe Chim. Twice, from Maddie. But never from a gray UNKNOWN NUMBER contact. 

He squints at the screen for a few moments. It’s half-past midnight, and he had a shift tomorrow. A spam caller, maybe. 

Still, he answers. 

Tentatively, he answers and lifts the phone to his cheek. “Hello?” 

A shuffle, then a sniffle. No reply. 

He sits up, panic beginning to climb up his throat. Images of Maddie, crying over an empty phone line, flash through his mind. He tries again, “Hello? Who is this?” 

Another sniffle, and then, “Buck?” 

“Chris?” He stumbled out of bed, unplugged his phone, and fumbled for a pair of socks, then his jacket. He was already in a loose shirt and a pair of pajama pants, which would have to do. “Are you okay? Where are you? “

“I’m fine,” Chris said fast, but the wobble in his voice already said so much. “I’m at Jake’s. We were having a sleepover.” 

Jake’s mom is Matilda, who makes gluten-free snickerdoodles and volunteers for the field trips. Jake and Christopher had gotten close in the last year after becoming science partners, and a few sleepovers had come out of it. Eddie had told him about tonight’s sleepover a few days ago in passing, mostly about how much Christopher was looking forward to it. 

Buck shoved on a pair of sneakers, still not pausing. “But you’re okay, Chris? What’s going on?” 

There was a long beat of silence. Buck paused as he reached for his keys to listen more carefully. 

“I want to come home,” Chris said softly, probably to keep it from breaking. “I - I keep having nightmares, and they’re really bad and I don’t want to be here anymore, I just want to be home.” 

The door clicked shut after him, Buck’s keys clenched tight in his hand. “I’m on my way. Have you talked to Jake or his parents? You need to at least let them know I’m coming to pick you up, okay?” 

“I talked to his mom,” _Matilda,_ Buck’s mind reminded him. “Do you need the address?” 

“I’ve got it.” He was already flicking through the Maps app, the info saved from one of the many middle school carpools he’d given in the past year. “Chris, have you talked to your dad?”

“He didn’t pick up.” Christopher sniffled again. “I’m sorry for waking you up.” 

He didn’t like lying to Christopher, but it was preferable to the thought of him beating himself up over something so small. “Don’t worry, I was awake. I’ll be there soon, okay? I’ll stay on the line.” He turned the phone on speaker as he turned the key in the ignition, roared the jeep up, and pulled out of his parking spot. The app read 23 minutes away, unfortunately, but at least the late hour promised minimal traffic. He thought of the UNKNOWN NUMBER tag that had flashed across his screen—Chris’s contact had a photo of them at Christmastime and a blue dinosaur emoji, picked out by the boy himself. “Where are you calling from, bud?”

“Jake's mom let me use hers. I forgot my charger at home.” Chris’s voice went all small and soft. “Dad reminded me like a hundred times, but I left it in my backpack.”

“That’s okay,” Buck immediately reassured, “I’ve got an extra one for my car, you can charge it as soon as I get there.” 

He got there soon enough, keeping up small talk through the phone line before he was finally pulling up to the suburbs and his Map app announced _Arrived._

The front door cracked open as he bounced up the steps. He gave Matilda a small, awkward wave. “Chris called me?” 

“Oh,” She rubbed at her eye. He had never seen her without make-up—she usually wore a soft pink lipstick and blush high on her cheeks; her skin was clean and pale under the porch lightning. “Sorry, I thought Eddie was showing up. Chris said - nevermind. Let me go get him.” 

She ushered him through the entryway and disappeared back down the hall, soft voices drifting through the walls. 

“Buck!” Christopher made his way down the hall, crashing straight into Buck’s side. 

“Hey, buddy,” Buck reached out to ruffle this hair. Chris smiled up at him, clearly tired and yet filled with so much joy. “Ready to go?” 

“Yes.”

“Do you want to grab your bag?” Buck gently reminded him. 

Christopher, realizing he had left every single one of his possessions back in Jake’s bedroom, quickly agreed. Matilda went to help, leaving Buck alone. The rest of the family was probably still asleep. Other than the dim kitchen light, the entire house was still and dark, calm. 

Buck checked the time; almost 1 am. Well, no better time than the present. 

He took his phone off the car’s Bluetooth and pressed the phone to his cheek, waving to Chris as he turned back into one of the bedrooms. The line only rang once, twice before it connected. 

“Hello?” Eddie sounded anxious already, “Buck?” 

“Hey Eddie,” Buck bit his lip. “We’re fine, don’t panic.” 

Eddie paused, inhaling slightly. There was a slight shuffling on the other end, shifting of fabric. “What happened?” 

“We’re fine! We are. But Chris called me to pick him up from Jake’s house. He, um, had a bad nightmare and wanted to leave. I think he tried calling you?” 

“Oh my god,” There was the sound of fumbling as Eddie scrambled for his phone. “I - I didn’t hear it ring -” 

“His phone died. He was using Matilda’s cell.” Buck winced and clicked his tongue. “Maybe don’t get too upset he forgot his charger? He’s kind of beating himself up over it.” 

Eddie sighed, “I had my phone on do not disturb. Chris’s calls go through anyway but,” He cut himself off. “Nevermind. I’m on my way right now, does Matilda know I’m coming?” 

“Oh,” Buck waved Christopher to the passenger seat as he came out, this time clenching his overnight bag. Matilda waved at them both from the porch. “I’ve got him. We’re on our way home now. Do you want to talk to him?” 

There was a long silence before Eddie finally exhaled, “Yes.” 

Christopher was at the Jeep now. Buck took his bag from him and held out his phone in exchange, “Your dad.” 

Christopher lit up and took it, relaxing as he pressed the phone to his cheek and spoke softly into it. “Dad?”

He helped Christopher into the passenger seat, got him comfortable, and climbed in himself. By the time he was starting the Jeep back up, Christopher was holding his phone out back to him. 

He pulled out of the driveway, not bothering to search up the way. He could probably find his way to the Diaz house from any point in L.A. “What’d your dad say?” 

“He’s worried,” Chris said, “I feel bad.” 

Buck shifted in his seat, frowning. “You shouldn’t feel bad, bud. You know he’d do anything for you.” 

“I know,” He agreed softly, staring out the window. The radio was playing soft; The Killers. 

They pulled up to a stoplight. Buck glanced over—Chris looked so much like Eddie, drawn in himself like that, Buck ached with it. 

He forced his gaze forward, something building in his throat. His eye caught a flash of neon lights, glowing brightly against the night. He smiled, slow but wide. 

His voice was nonchalant, “What’s your dad’s policy on midnight snacks?” 

Buck, of course, knew the answer but Christopher only stared at him curiously. “No snacks after 8, but I can get a piece of fruit if I get hungry. Why?” 

Buck grinned and flipped his turn signal on, “What do you think he'd say about this place?"

Christopher broke out into a wide, toothy grin. "He'd say no!"

“Well, good thing it's just us, right?” Buck grinned at Christopher’s building excitement as they pulled up to the drive-thru. “What do you want?” 

They ended up buying out an array of sprinkled, jelly-filled, and chocolate doughnuts. He even added a single bear claw, Eddie’s favorite, to the bottom of the bag. He was no doubt waiting for their return. 

They got back to the house, laughing and bobbing their heads along to the music. Chris’ laughter was so crazy, pure joy, that bounced off the walls of the Jeep.

They got out on the porch, a white paper bag hanging from Buck’s hand, and the door swung open before he was even done knocking. Eddie stood there, his hair messy, in a pair of soft sweatpants cut off at the knee, and a thin white t-shirt, thick socks. His ankle brace had come off just a few days ago, and the skin was still noticeably paler there. 

Chris immediately fell forward in a hug, knowing Eddie’s arms would already be open to catch him. He was right, of course. 

Buck watched on softly, memorizing the tight, protective curl Eddie always went into when Chris was in his arms. 

Eddie straightened, rubbing at Chris’s hair, and gave him a look as soon as he saw the bag. “You got doughnuts? At one in the morning?” 

“And a bear claw.” Buck added, “Maple, if it matters.” 

It did, he already knew. 

_“Fine,”_ Eddie lifted Christopher to one of the bar stools and went for the milk. _“One_ doughnut and then you’re heading to bed, okay?” 

He and Chris had both eaten a doughnut right after pulling away from the drive-thru window, but neither mentioned that. Not that it ended up mattering—by the time Eddie came by with a glass of milk and Chris took two bites of his doughnut, he was asleep at the counter. 

“I’ve got him,” Buck was careful with Chris’ weight, as he shifted his body from the counter to his chest. His head automatically tucked itself into Buck’s neck, Buck’s hand came up to rest on his back, and he carried him into his bedroom. 

Buck tucked him in, set his glasses to the side, and grabbed his robot plush hidden inside his backpack. He said he was too old for it, but hadn’t managed a sleepover without it yet. When Buck finished with the quick flick on of his nightlight, Eddie was watching him from the doorway, pulled back from the scene.

Buck met him in the hall, closing the door carefully behind them, and followed him back to the kitchen. Eddie had cleaned up the minimal mess, putting the doughnuts away for later, rising out their milk cups, and left the counters clear. Buck loved this house, for Eddie and Christopher’s place in it, but also because it felt so starkly different than the one he’d grown up in. He could spend a lifetime memorizing how they filled up the space—how Eddie put away the dishes, how Chris would draw at the table, how their shoes would build-up by the doorway on busy weeks. 

Eddie was quiet. 

“Are you… okay?” Was he mad? 

Eddie looked down but reached out to gently grab Buck’s arm and pull him forward. “Stay here tonight.” He said, still not meeting his gaze. “It’s too late, we’ve got to be at the station in a few hours.” 

They had the afternoon shift, nothing extremely soon. If Buck went home right now, he’d still manage to get a decent night of sleep. 

He should say no. It was one of the only lines he hadn’t crossed yet, and fully intended to keep. It was their one last boundary. Sex with Eddie was fine, but _sleeping_ together—that was out of the question. It would be too much, too much of running his hand along the one thing he’s only ever truly wanted and having to snatch it away at the first hint of sunlight. He had to say no, for himself but also for Eddie, if they were ever going to survive the aftermath of this. He _had_ to say no. 

But Eddie was staring at him through his eyelashes, and his hand was still holding Buck's arm, exhaustion in every line of his body. Buck wondered if he’d want to reach out and touch forever or if it would fade with the years. He couldn’t fathom which was worse. 

He was asking him to stay, just for the night and just so he wouldn’t have to fret over Buck getting home safe. Eddie worried as Buck loved; constantly, with it pushing down on every breath. 

“The couch?” Buck asked, one last half-hearted attempt to keep within the rules.

Eddie shook his head slowly and reached out his hand, taking Bucks into his. “C’mon,” Eddie said, almost a whisper. “Let’s go to bed.” He led him down the hall, into his bedroom. Buck had been in here more times than he could ever hope to count, it’s been years, after all, but it felt like the first. 

Eddie pushed him back onto the mattress, his touch light, until Buck was sitting on the edge. He unzipped Buck’s jacket, folding it to the side because Eddie hated when clothes were out of place, and circled to the other side. He gestured for Buck to lay down, which he did, and Eddie didn’t hesitate to curl into his side, lay his head on Buck’s chest. There was a light across the street that kept the room from complete darkness; he watched as Eddie reached out, laid his arm across his chest, and gently traced his fingertip over the ink on Buck’s chest, right over his heart. He leaned up to press his lips against Bucks. 

Kissing meant sex, but Eddie didn’t make any move toward heating the touch. He just tipped Buck’s chin down, pressed their lips together sweetly, and then laid his head back down. God, he was so warm, and the sheets smelled like detergent and aftershave, and Eddie was breathing softly into his chest. If Buck lifted his arm and wrapped him in it, he could probably feel the other man’s heartbeat.

Eddie ran his thumb over Buck’s inner arm, right over his tattoo. There wasn’t anything else he could do; he’d been wanting for as long as he could remember. 

Buck closed his eyes, and he slept.

* * *

When he let himself in, the loft was already awake with music, the smell of food cooking. Buck dropped his keys, his boots at the doorway and waved in greeting. At the door locking shut, Albert reached for his phone to turn down his music—Harry Styles?—and gave Buck a wide grin. “Hey! You’re back. I’m making omelets, are you hungry?” He was standing at the stove, a spatula in one hand. The counter was already covered in a variety of used dishes.

Albert enjoyed cooking, but he didn’t enjoy the clean-up that came after, which explained the entirety of their mild roommate squabbling. Buck nodded anyway, already smiling. “Sure. Thanks.” 

He beamed and reached to start making up another. He gave Buck a knowing look. “So you’re in early. Or is it late?”

Buck’s face went red. “Uh, late, I guess.” 

“Are you seeing someone?” Albert smiled at him, sweet and excited. “I won’t tell anyone. Especially Chimney.” 

Buck bit his lip as he lingered at the counter, thumbing at his shirt hem. It was one of Eddie’s—nothing recognizable, just a plain shirt that must have come out of a plastic pack of them. Still, it was soft, and Buck knew that if he raised the fabric to his nose, it would smell like Eddie’s cologne and laundry soap, something clean and sweet. He rubbed it between his fingers, thinking.

“Yeah,” He finally sighed and leaned his weight against the doorway like his strings were cut. “I’m kind of seeing someone. But it’s very lowkey.” 

Albert was grinning so brightly, Buck felt slightly better just by looking at him. “That’s great!”

“Yeah,” Buck agreed, tired. Albert began whisking up the eggs, adding mushrooms without Buck even having to ask. He felt exhausted, dead on his feet. He felt like he couldn’t breathe normally, a hundred pounds heavier—there was a very specific weight he carried, right between his shoulder blades, that he’d felt every day since he realized he loved, he loved, he loved. So much of his life revolved around keeping the weight hidden, pushed in the dark even when Eddie ran his hands over it, that he wasn’t sure if he just loved Eddie anymore but reverently worshipped him. 

Albert called his name, pulling him out of this thought. He shifted his weight back and forth. “You okay?” 

“I’m fine,” He answered automatically, tilting up his chin so he could smile at him full-on. “Why?” 

Albert blinked at him, unsure. “You just seemed off for a second.”

“I’m fine,” He repeated, reassuring. “How are you?” 

“I’m good,” He nodded slowly, shifting the spatula back and forth in his hands. He seemed to decide on something. “Buck, I know we’re new at the whole roommate thing. But I like you.”

“Oh,” Buck broke out into a real grin. “I like you too, Albert. You’re a cool guy.” 

Albert beamed at that, then paused. “Uh, thank you, really. But I was trying to say that if you want, you can talk to me, you know?” 

Buck smiled slowly, one corner of his mouth at a time. He never realized how _much_ family could be—how it slipped in so effortlessly and seeped into every aspect of your life. It was like one day he looked up, and he could see in color. 

“Thanks, man.” Buck laughed, soft. “I appreciate it.” 

Albert leaned his elbows on the counter, a small smile in place. “Is it relationship drama?” 

Buck let out a small breath. “Kind of. Yeah.” 

“Okay. You don’t have to say anything. But I do hope you talk to someone about it.” 

Buck laughed, small. 

“Oh, don’t worry.” Buck said, humor in his voice, “I do.”

* * *

Eddie was meticulous about a few things; his personal hygiene, his laundry, clean floors. It was the military man in him, Buck knew. However, with other things, that same precision and detail were completely absent. Other things, like…

“Oh, damn it.” Eddie frowned as he tossed the crushed egg to the side. “A little shell isn’t that bad, right? No one will even notice.”

“We’ll definitely notice,” Buck reached out to slide the bowl closer to himself. The already clumpy mix curled sadly around the mush of egg yolk and shell. It would probably be best just to start over. 

Eddie was a decent cook, really, but he mostly shined at heavy soups and thick, creamy pasta—stuff you could leave in a pot and multi-task with, only stirring occasionally. For some reason, he seemed to never catch onto breakfast foods, other than cereal and chopped up fruit, but that only meant that Buck was always quick to volunteer on the mornings he found himself padding along their wooden floors.

Buck bumped him out of the way with his hip, trashing the mix and readying to start over. “Get out of here, Diaz. Chris knows he gets famous Buck’s special pancakes when I’m here, anyway.”

“They’re not special just because you add cinnamon,” Eddie muttered but went to wash the yolk off his hands. 

“You’re right, they’re special because Chris only gets pancakes when I come over because his dad can’t figure out how to work a griddle.” Buck laughed at Eddie’s expression, “It’s true! You never let the pan heat up!”

“I do!”

“Yeah, but then it’s so hot it burns the bottoms while they’re still liquid!” Buck shook his head, smiling. He pulled down the flour and sugar as he went, measuring them out quickly. Just as he was starting to portion them out on the griddle, the door down the hall opened. 

Chris came around the corner, dressed for the day though his curls were still pretty mussed. He was already smiling that sweet tooth grin of his. 

Buck perked up, “Hey, little man! How’d you sleep?”

Chris took a seat at the table, “Good. Dreamt about robots.”

“That’s awesome.” It really was. 

“Buck?”

Buck flipped a pancake, “Yeah, buddy?” 

“Do you think when robots can build each other, do you think they’ll make robot dogs?” 

Buck paused to really consider that. “I think it would make sense. Or would they just want to take our dogs?” 

Chris thought it over. “Maybe. We do have good dogs.” 

Buck laughed and plated a few of the pancakes, set it in front of Chris. He made an excited noise and immediately reached for the syrup, drenching his plate. 

“That’s enough,” Eddie commented as he walked past. Christopher obediently, if a little disappointed, set the bottle back on the table and picked up his fork. Eddie nodded in approval as he turned into his bedroom.

As soon as he was gone, Buck picked up the bottle for himself but paused right next to Chris’ plate. At Chris’ attention, Buck pressed his finger against his own lips, a silence _shh,_ and reached out to pour a little more across the plate. Christopher beamed up at him, warming him like no one else could with just a smile, and dug into the pancakes with even more vigor.

He took the bottle back to the counter, finished up the rest of the pancakes. When Eddie came to pick up his plate, he bummed his hip against Buck’s, nodded to the syrup. 

“I saw that,” Eddie told him. “You’re not very subtle.”

“If I wanted to be subtle, I would have snuck chocolate in with the blueberries.” Buck swept back to the table, grinning over his shoulder. “A little extra won’t hurt him.” 

Eddie didn't argue, for once. "What was Chris saying?"

Buck snorted, "He asked me if I thought robots would be interested in making their own robot dogs." His grin turned knowing. "I guess dogs are still on the mind."

Eddie leaned his head on the wall and sighed so greatly Buck couldn't help the burst of laughter that bubbled out of him.

* * *

 _“I haven’t spoken to our parents in years. Maddie does, sometimes. She said it gets different, the older you get. I don’t know. I keep circling back to that moment with my mother, every time I think about reaching out. I get so angry and confused. That’s not what family’s supposed to be, I know that now. But at the same time, I think I built a lot of myself on that moment. And it’s not that I don’t like myself_ _—_ _I do, for the most part. I just don’t like the thought that she had a hand in the good parts of me, that’s how she treated me meant something good in the end. It’s not fair. ”_

* * *

“Drinks!” Chim was still yelling, “We should go out for drinks!” 

“After a shift like that, I think I deserve something.” Hen scoffed, “Honestly, three dorm fires in one night? What is _up_ with that campus?” 

Buck shrugged out of his suspenders, letting them hang at his waist. “At least that the last one was a false alarm.” 

“I can still smell the burnt popcorn though.” Hen hesitantly sniffed her coat, wrinkling her nose. “Oh god, it followed us back.” 

Buck perked up, “Did you know that in the 1900s, popcorn was actually served as a cereal? With like, milk and fruit and sugar.” 

Chim gagged, “Sounds disgusting. Like corn mush.” 

“Yeah,” He said thoughtfully. “Can’t say it sounds appealing.” 

“Anyway, shifting away from the corn mush, who’s up for going out?” A handful of crew members raised their hands, Hen included. Eddie, stripping his gear, didn’t move to do so. 

Chim began counting everyone up, working out rides, as they wandered back to the lockers. 

“You should invite your new guy,” Chim told him. “Albert was going on about how cool he is, I’m starting to get a bit jealous.” 

Buck smiled at the ground and rubbed his head, using his other hand to open his locker and pull out his bag, a pair of sneakers. “I don’t think we’re like that. It’s not that serious.” 

Chim shrugged, “It’s just drinks, but your choice. See you there?”

“We’ll see,” Buck waved him off, and he seemed happy enough with that to go off in search of anyone else he could convince toward coming. Buck grabbed the rest of his things, threw them on the bench. 

Eddie, on the other side of the room, was still stuffing his bag. Buck closed his locker just to lean against it, grinning at him. “So you going for drinks?” 

Eddie glanced up at him, at his grin, and shook his head. “Nah,” He replied, shoving the last of his things into his bag, zipping it up. “Christopher’s at Carla’s until six. Thought I’d enjoy the house to myself for a bit.” 

“Oh?” Buck cocked his head to the side. “That’s nice.” 

Eddie gave him a dry look. Buck grinned. 

Finally, he hummed, pleased and knowing. “Yeah, I was thinking about skipping too.” He peeked back to where Eddie’s gaze was waiting, “Mind if I come over for a bit?” 

Eddie didn’t reply but rolled his eyes as he slammed his locker shut. He threw the bag strap over his shoulder, shot Buck a look, and took off toward the front. Buck watched him go, still pressed against the lockers. 

After a handful of steps, Eddie glanced over his shoulder. “Coming?” 

Buck couldn’t help the small smile that pulled at his lips. 

Maybe this could be enough. The flirting, teasing, their hands clasping together to lift the other up, to shove the other out of the way when it mattered most. Maybe this would be enough, if he loved right.

Still—Eddie was waiting now, the afternoon sun drifting through the truck entrance, and he couldn’t help but turn his head away to grin into his shoulder. He pushed himself off the lockers, gripped his bag strap, and jogged to where Eddie’s was waiting.

* * *

It was Buck's last shift he was covering at the bar, and Aaron had been quiet all evening. Buck, who'd been in this exact position so many times he wouldn't ever be able to count them up, already knew what was coming. 

He waited until the evening was starting to wind down, around when Aaron would give him the all-clear to head back to the loft while he and his actual staff cleaned up. 

"Hey," Buck shot him a wry smile as he came up beside him. "It doesn't have to be a big deal, you know. It's fine." 

Aaron was only surprised for about half-second before he sighed hugely. He tossed his rag on the counter, where he'd been mopping up a spill, and turned to face Buck. "You know?" 

"Kind of hard not to suspect something." Buck teased, "Usually, at this point, you're three segues deep in a story about the latest staff drama." He tried again, soft as he tilted his head to the side. "It's not a big deal."

"I know, I just - I don't want you to think that like, I'm breaking things off as soon as I don't need you for the bar anymore. That would be so shitty and I'm not doing that." 

Buck nodded, "Okay. I understand. But?" 

Aaron cleared his throat before he continued, "But my ex and I are thinking about giving it another shot. Which means I won't be able to meet up with you, like we were." He let out a breath, ran a hand through his bleached hair. His roots were starting to grow out just slightly—last month, Buck had helped him fix it up with a cheap box and bottle of the stuff. "Evan, you've been so great. You've saved my ass with all the shifts you've worked. I'll never regret meeting you. But... yeah. I'm really sorry. "

"Don't worry about it. This was nothing serious," Buck was quick to reassure him, thinking about Aaron looking up at him and saying, _break my heart, won't you?_ "Seriously, I'm happy for you! You never told me about a mysterious ex." 

"I thought we weren't talking about," He waved his hand around. "you know. The outside world. Our other people." 

It was true. The only time Aaron had tried to tease him about Eddie, right after the 118's visit, Buck had pretty much shut it down. 

Buck held out a hand, "Friends?" 

Aaron took it, gentle. His nails were painted silver and black, which Buck always thought was cool. "Please."

* * *

Friday afternoon brought him to Maddie’s neighborhood, two apartments over. 

Clem was one of Maddie’s neighbors. When Buck was living there, they’d gotten to know each other pretty well. Or, at least well enough. She occasionally texted him, or vise versa, when wanting something no-strings and Buck was happy enough to oblige. 

He wasn’t sleeping around as much as he used to, to a harmful degree, but recently, especially the past few months, he’d been finding it helped. Helped keep things at bay, feelings. 

He's always wanted too much, and when it came close to overflowing when Eddie stared at him softly, muttered his name, reached for him without looking—Buck needed a breather. 

Before Aaron, it was one of Maddie’s coworkers, and then it was the treadmill girl at the gym, then it was the barista at the place by his apartment, and then, and then, and then. It wasn't anything serious; wasn't ever. He just needed someone for when it became too much; when he knew he couldn't see Eddie at all because Buck would just say his name and he'd _know._ Everyone would see through him, Buck would be so obvious with it.

Clem was already grinning when she opened the door. She was wearing a bright, floral orange silk robe, gold clasps in her braids, and absolutely nothing else. 

Buck held up a bottle of wine, smiling sweet the way she liked. 

She held out for the wine first, made a show of examining the label even though she drank the stuff from the gas station down the street, and finally gestured him in. 

He’d always wanted too much but this, stepping across a stranger’s threshold and bowing his head against the backdrop of their home, was almost enough to forget that. 

* * *

It’d been a mostly typical shift so far. 

Hen was stressed about Denny’s school enrollment results, and Chim had been quietly struggling with the idea of fatherhood since his recent Skype call with his father, so the shift was mostly preoccupied with personal drama. Their few calls were uneventful, except for one call when Hen had gotten slightly emotionally attached to an injured mother sending her kid off to college in a month, but it all seemed very par for the course. After they returned to the station, Bobby seemed to be letting each of them take a thinking period to collect their thoughts, before he’d enviably catch one of them in the breakroom or on their way out of the house. Bobby, on a mission to advise one of them, was like a well-oiled machine at this point. 

But, of course, all this other drama only really meant one thing to Buck, in the end: with everyone focused on their own stuff, no one was watching them. 

Buck dropped himself down to Eddie, close enough Buck could feel the shower dampness still clinging to his skin. They were still on shift, but Eddie had decided to blow off some free time in the gym, which meant Buck had been legally required to fumble through his job while Eddie was sweaty and mussed through the glass paneling and turning to wink at him. It was infuriating. 

But a gym workout meant a shower after, which beat out in the end. Buck shifted closer to him. Eddie was dressed in his uniform, fresh from a wash, his hair still wet at the ends. He wanted to run his bottom lip up along his neck, catch whatever water was there. 

“Hey, stranger.” 

Eddie tried to throw him an unimpressed look, but his eyes immediately fell to Buck’s lips, ruining the effect. Without looking over, Buck reached over and gripped Eddie’s upper thigh, rubbing his skin through the fabric. He brushed Eddie’s inseam, relishing Eddie’s sharp inhale and quick hand coming down to clench at the bench. 

Buck faced him a few moments later, nonchalant. “Want to come over later?” 

Eddie’s eyes flicked down to his hand, then back. His legs spread further. “Yeah. Sure.”

“Does seven work?”

He stuttered on his breath, as Buck pressed more firmly. “Yeah, that works.” 

“Cool,” Buck pulled his hand back and stood, cool as a cucumber. He walked out of the room, grinning over his shoulder. “See you then. Hey, Sticks, you up for a game?”

* * *

When he came back to it, he was on his side. 

Strange, considering his seat belt was still digging into his neck, his Jeep cushions still hugged themselves along his back. He could feel glass, gritty and sharp, under his cheek. He was on his side, in his Jeep. And he couldn’t yet open his eyes. 

Sound, touch, pain found him quickly. 

A sweep of pressure across his brow was the first thing he felt, wet and warm, then a touch to his throat, under his jaw. As quick as it came, the touch vanished with an array of vague panicked noise—he was left with himself, hot from the summer heat but sweeping cold at the same time in his hands and feet. His head hurt, he realized, a lot. Sirens, somewhere, and a car horn were blaring.

He took a deep breath and didn’t feel any sharp pain. Good - that was good. 

He existed in the dark with steady waves washing over him for a long while before everything started coming back to him, slow like molasses. He’d been driving, going through a green light, and he heard a loud screeching right before a crumbling impact. He hadn’t even had time to think. 

The car horn abruptly cut off, which only left the sirens and - and voices. Familiar voices, close enough he could understand. 

Just his luck. 

“There you are,” Hen’s rich, soothing voice whispered as Buck tentatively peeked his eyes open, wincing against the afternoon sun. “What was that, Chim? Less than a minute?” 

Buck slowly turned his head just slightly to follow Hen’s gaze; no pain in that, either. 

Chim was closer than he expected, only a few inches away next to Hen. “About, maybe a little more. I’m thinking mid-level.” 

“What,” Buck tried, “What are you guys doing here?” His words were slow, but clear—no slurring. Another checkmark. 

“Oh, just saving our friend’s ass,” Chim replied conversationally, shuffling through his pack. “All in a day’s work and all that.” 

Buck tried to nod, less in understanding and more because it seemed like the thing to do, when a hand gently guided his chin straight. 

“Don’t move your head too much,” Hen ordered lightly, holding up a flashlight to shine in his eyes. “And keep your eyes open.”

Chimney was at her side, setting out their supplies, but managed to grin when Buck dragged his gaze over to him again. “Really, man? Was the truck bomb not enough? Or the tsunami? Do you like ‘welcome back’ cake that much? I’m starting to think you _like_ seeing us fawn over you.” 

“And that’s not counting the time you almost choked to death,” Hen muttered. 

“What - ?” 

Chimney spoke over the new, familiar voice easily, smiling soft and calm. “Is that it, Buck? You like seeing my old mug like this every once in a while?” 

His thoughts were coming to him, foggy and thick. He managed to smile, slow. “Screw off, Chim.” 

Chim grinned brightly at that like that was the exact response he was searching for. “What were you doing out here anyway? Errands?” 

“I…” Buck trailed off, his gaze caught on the spiderwebbed cracked window, the one he had been resting his face on. His windshield was completely gone, he realized—that’s how Hen and Chim were talking to him, huddled together in the open space. “I was going to the store. Groceries and a present.” 

“A present?” Chim wasn’t looking at him anymore, reaching up to stick some tape on Buck’s forehead instead. “For me?” 

“Christopher,” He muttered in reply, no longer paying attention to the conversation. “It’s his birthday soon.” 

Hen and Chimney shared a look at that, but Buck was focused on something else now. Just beyond where Hen and Chim were curled up, he could make out another crumbled car. The one that had hit him. 

“The other driver -” 

“They’re fine.” A new voice, familiar and enough to fill Buck with warmth. Eddie was there suddenly, bending down to squint into the Jeep, looking pale. “Some minor injuries, but everyone’s gonna walk away from this.” 

“Good,” He wanted to nod but knew from experience that wasn't a good idea. “I feel nauseous.” 

“That’s the concussion,” Hen muttered, reaching over to wrap a neck-brace under his chin.

“Concussion?” Eddie asked. “Are you for sure? What level? We need to -”

“Eddie,” Hen said lightly, focused on her work. “You’re helping Cap right now. Go.” 

A brief silence, before Eddie turned briskly and marched off. Hen and Chim kept working. 

Buck swallowed, tried to clear his throat. Usually, at this point when they knew the victim was going to be okay and nothing was actively on fire, they’d be joking with each other. Their tense silence was starting to hurt more than the glass. 

Buck tried to keep his voice light and clear. “Does that mean if I ask any questions, you’ll kick me out too?” 

Hen looked up at him and smiled softly, more relief than anything. She let out a single, small laugh. “Why don’t you try and see?” 

He smiled up at her, meaning it. 

Chim called back for his attention, waiting until Buck was staring back at him. “You know what happens next, right?” 

Buck swallowed. “You’ve got to get me out of here.” 

He nodded, “We have the jaws, and it doesn’t seem like anything’s broken, but let us know right away if anything hurts, okay?” 

He waited until Buck agreed. Then, he looked back over to Hen, who was reporting back into her radio. 

Buck let out a breath. Cap and Eddie brought the jaws over, lined it up, and began the horrible, noisy process. Buck could do nothing but lay there, waiting. 

He’d still have to get groceries after this, he realized, which definitely wasn’t the worst part of his day but up there. Maybe he could order them? Or annoy Eddie into going for him? Albert offered to go a few times, but he always needed an extremely detailed list, including brand names, or he’d come back with something totally off-the-wall. Usually, it was just easier to go himself. 

The grinding was getting louder, the closer it cut through. Buck laid his face against the window. 

It was mid-day, which felt strange. He felt like he’d been here for at least an hour or so, rather than the twenty minutes or so it probably was. 

The metal-on-metal screeching stopped, and Cap yelled out an all-clear. The wreckage was pulled away and, after a quick squint against the sun, they were there. 

Hen reached to check his neck brace first, then gripped his forearm to help guide him out. He felt tentatively good enough to lift himself up and crawl out of the worst of it, but as soon as he was free, they were there pushing him back onto the stretcher. Other than his head and a few stray cuts, he seemed to have gotten out of the whole ordeal relatively lucky. He probably wouldn’t even be out of work for two weeks.

He looked back to where the Jeep was, cut in half. He saved for years for the downpayment on it; it was his first adult purchase in his new life.

Before Maddie, and before Eddie, he used to spend nights driving up and down the sidestreets. Sometimes, he was waiting for Abby to call but most nights, it was just getting to know the L.A. streets outside traffic hours, playing The Neighborhood and old Kanye albums. 

Eddie was taking away the jaws, while Cap lingered. 

“Think the Jeep is salvageable?” 

Cap shot the crumpled heap of metal a dry look, “Can’t say I’m sure it will. But I do know that if it was between you or the Jeep, I know who I’m picking to last.” His hand, covered in a glove, rested on his shoulder. “Let’s get you out of here.” 

They wheeled the stretcher away, toward the ambulance. Right before they rolled him in, Buck reached out to grip Chimney’s wrist, exhausted. Chim paused, staring down at him.

“Can you - can you call Maddie?” He felt all of ten-years-old with a skinned knee, standing in his older sister’s doorway. “Please?” 

Chim softened, “Of course. Yeah. I’ll do it right now.” 

He nodded, loosening his grip enough so Chimney could hand him off, pushing the backboard through. Hen was waiting in the back already, her arms outstretched to slide the gurney in. The doors didn’t immediately slam closed after him, some kind of commotion Buck couldn’t see. Hen ran her hand along his chest and neck, checking the skin.

“Eddie?” Buck blinked against the bright lights for a moment. He watched in surprise as Eddie stripped his overcoat, his helmet, and passed them to a pair of waiting arms. “You’re coming?” 

Eddie didn’t reply, only got in behind him and let the ambulance doors fall shut after him. Chim must be driving, then. 

Buck tried again, calling out his name. This time, Eddie let out a trembling sigh and took his place at Buck’s side. He didn’t say anything, only the ambulance siren and Hen’s quick, sure movements filling up the space, getting him hooked up to a monitor and IV. 

Buck’s hazy gaze drifted, as always, to the other man. Eddie wasn’t looking at him, only staring straight ahead. On Eddie’s hand, right in the web of his palm and down his wrist, there was a splash of dried blood. 

“Are you okay?” Buck demanded, attempting to sit up before Hen pressed a firm hand down on his shoulder, holding him down. “Are you bleeding? Hen, he’s bleeding -” 

“I’m fine,” Eddie said tensely, “It’s not mine.” 

“Oh,” Buck said. He let his arm fall back from where he’d been trying to pull himself up. "You're just keeping it there? You should have been wearing gloves, that’s so unsanitary, man.” 

He didn’t respond. Buck tried to share a bewildered look with Hen, but she was completely engaged in her work. 

A few moments later, Eddie was fumbling his hand into Buck’s, wordless. He wouldn’t face Buck, and that hurt a little bit. 

“Hey,” Buck squeezed his hand the best he could. “I’m sorry. I just - I really needed groceries.” 

Eddie looked up, tilting his head up to stare at the ambulance roof. There was nothing interesting up there. Buck would know, at this point. 

“Don’t apologize,” Eddie replied, his voice rough. “Please don’t apologize.” 

“Eddie?” 

“I can’t carry you out of this.” Eddie mumbled suddenly, “It’s - it’s not fair. You’re supposed to stick to our deal, Buckley. Both or neither, remember? We’re supposed to head into this stuff together, have each other’s back.” Eddie squeezed his hand, tight and desperate. “I need to have your back. Don’t do this to me.” 

Buck was crying now, just lightly, but definitely so. Maybe he could blame it on the drugs Hen was hopefully giving him. “Both or neither,” He promised, his breath hitching. “I’ve got your back.” 

Their hands were still pressed together, and Eddie was watching him like he was looking for something, searching. Buck must have been a mess, with the blood and tears and bandages and no doubt horrible bruising, but whatever he saw, Eddie softened. His free hand came up to gently smooth itself over Buck’s hair, his thumb catching on Buck’s eyebrow. Then, impossibly, he leaned forward to press his lips soft and chaste against Buck’s, there and gone. 

Buck opened his eyes, stared at him in utter wonder as he pulled back and leaned against the ambulance wall, perfectly collected, cool as a fucking cucumber. 

He checked the other side of the ambulance, his lips twitching up into a small smile. Hen was very deliberately staring up at Buck’s monitor, perfectly engrossed. 

At his attention, her gaze flickered to him, then back to the monitor. “We should be there shortly.” 

A small laugh bubbled from his lips, at the whole situation and the warmth still clinging to his lips, Eddie’s hand ghosting over his hair. “Thanks, Hen.” 

...

This time, when he opened his eyes, he was at least right-side up. 

He was also in a hospital bed, which was less than ideal. 

However, after taking in these two details, he also quickly realized he wasn’t alone—Eddie and Bobby were both faced away from him, speaking quietly but not enough so that Buck couldn’t hear them. 

“I shouldn’t have freaked out back there.” Eddie was speaking in a tense voice, “I left my team hanging and - and then I just left.”

Bobby, this time. “No one blames you, Eddie. We didn’t know what we were pulling up into.” 

“I should have kept it together for the scene.”

Bobby sighed, “I understand. But it wasn't some scene, Eddie. It was one of us. Truth be told? I hesitated. When we pulled up and I saw all that blood, and Buck’s crumbled windshield, I froze. But Chim stepped up, and he handled it. It happens. I’ve learned that I can’t agonize over that moment, it’s just being human. We’ve just got to do our best for each other, that’s what a team is.” There was a small pause. “I would have wanted you to stay with him anyway. I can’t imagine returning to work if Athena got hurt.” A memory, flickering quick, of exactly that—Chim taking over at the warehouse, directing them through the scene and back to the firehouse as Bobby followed after Athena’s small gasps of pain. 

Eddie’s voice was rough when he replied, “It’s not the same.” 

Another stretch of silence, so much so Buck was wondering if he should speak up at any point, when Eddie spoke up. “I just - I thought it was happening again. When we pulled up and saw Buck’s Jeep.” He took a deep breath, his shoulders dropping with the action. “It was exactly like Shannon.”

Bobby reached out to grip Eddie’s shoulder. “Buck’s going to be fine, he’s got a thick skull. A minor concussion won’t even keep him out for a few weeks. The blood made it seem a lot worse than it was.” 

“I know. I’m a goddamn medic, I know.” Eddie scrubbed a hand over his face. “I just wasn’t expecting it.” 

“No one us were. But he’s going to be okay. We all are.” 

That was enough, it felt. He closed his eyes, kept still, and eventually sleep took him back.

* * *

In the end, it was barely a mid-level concussion and a few stitches. He was due back in two weeks to, hopefully, get the all-clear and return to work.

Maddie, of course, had cried when she came to visit him but thanked god “he had such a thick head” and snuck him in a burger at the same, so it was a pretty nice visit. The rest of the 118 had stopped in at one point as well, each making the same joke about getting tired of seeing him in there. Carla even stopped by right before he was discharged, bearing a card and knowing wink. 

Abuela sent food, of course, stacked up in plastic cases that he and Albert would feast on for the next week. She worried they weren’t eating enough, and Buck’s recent injury only intensified by that fact tenfold. Yesterday, she dropped off an entire cake with a tray of cookies. 

Today, Eddie had brought along her wares: yellow rice, deep-fried flautas, grilled chicken smothered in a dark brown mole sauce. 

He had been insistent that Chris not see him like he was still held up at the hospital, he was barely there two days before he got to go-ahead to return to the loft, but Eddie refused to budge on a post-freedom visit.

“What, you’re gonna deny the kid his Buck?” Eddie’s hand came down to punch his shoulder. “Don’t be so cruel.” 

“Buck wouldn’t,” Chris added, leaning into his side on the couch. It was an incredibly familiar feeling, being stocked up on Gatorade and frozen Tupperware, an orange bottle of pills on the side table, Chris giggling into his side. 

He had some dark purple bruising hidden under his sweater, but for the most part, the swelling and redness had come down. He stuck a patch of stark white bandages along his hairline, covering the four stitches the doctors had ended up insisted on. They were gnarly as hell, but the scar would be mostly hidden and he could easily reach it to clean it on his own, twice a day. It could have been worse. 

Still, when Chris leaned against the couch at the end of the night to reach out and touch Buck’s cheek as he repeated with a smile, “You’re gonna be okay, kid,” Buck got misty-eyed. 

Buck was never someone people called on in an emergency, never had the people for it. But Christopher had his number memorized, and his call went through when Eddie turned his phone on silent. That meant something—everything—and it was thoroughly addicting. 

“Thanks, Chris,” He answered and, staring at his little warm smile, his soft mess of curls, believed his words. 

**iii.**

He’s thirteen, and Maddie’s packing her things at midnight so she can sneak out before their parents wake up. 

At least, that’s what he’s gathered since when he wandered in moments ago, tired and cranky at all the noise she was making. He planned on just snapping at her to be quiet, maybe stealing one of her nice pillows on the way out, and diving right back to sleep. But when he opened the door, and when her suitcase was open and already stuffed, and when she looked up at him in surprise and shock and almost fear, she immediately said, “Don’t tell mom and dad.” 

“What?” He already knew, he knew exactly. “What are you doing?” 

She stood slowly, on trembling limbs. “I -”

“Maddie, what are you doing?” He asked again, his voice rising. She stepped forward to shush him, her hands out, and glanced toward the hallway. They both listened to the tense silence that followed, but nothing else (no one else) emerged. 

She looked back to him, and he to her.

“I’m sorry,” Was the first thing she said, and she was already crying so hard. “I’m sorry. I can’t stay here. I have to go.” 

Evan swallowed, “Tonight?” 

She nodded, shaky. She was still terrified. “I’m finished up with school now and - and I don’t start my college stuff until September and I just can’t just stand to be here another moment I don’t have to be, and some people from school are heading toward Philly and -” She cut her rambling off to take a deep breath. “I’m catching a ride with them. I’ll figure it out once I get there.”

His first thought was: _Why didn’t she tell me to pack my things too?_

And then: _Oh._

“You know how mom and dad are with me.” She rushed to explain, pleading. “You know I can’t spend another summer here. I need to _breathe.”_

“I -” He swallowed. “One moment.” 

Evan took a step back, then another, before he bolted back to his bedroom. He fell at his bedside to reach under the wooden frame to peel back a strip of duct-tape. A thin, tin box fell into his waiting palm, that he emptied into his other before returning to Maddie. 

“Take it.” It was only about a hundred dollars or so, saved from moving neighbor’s lawns and pulling weeds at the rec centers, but it was all he had. It was all he could give her. 

She pushed his hand back immediately, “I don’t need it, really, keep it -”

“Maddie,” He was crying now, like she was. He held out the rolled-up bills again. “ _Take it_. Please. It’ll make me feel better, please.” 

After another few moments, and another few tears, she reached a shaky hand out to do so. Buck dropped his arm to his side, unsure of what to say next. His mother had lectured him on a hundred different scripts, but never one for this moment. It was almost unforgivable of her. He jerked his gaze away from her teary face, his chest aching.

The picture frame by her bed was gone, he noticed. He made it for her when he was in the third grade by gluing some colorful cotton balls to a wooden frame, colored it in with markers. It was hideous, really, but she made it useful anyway. A picture from a few summers ago, when they spent an entire day at the park together and she bought them ice cream cones with her pocket money. It was one of his best memories, at thirteen. It would stay that way for the rest of his life, probably. 

She was clenching the folded bills, curled in on herself, seeming so small even years older than him. He was the brother—he was supposed to protect her, that’s what everyone said, but he couldn’t do that if she wasn’t even in the same state. 

He could call for his parents, wake them up and explain everything that was happening. He could stop her from leaving, beg her to say, and maybe she’d consider it. He could keep her for just a few more months

He hugged her, tight. He’d never existed in this house, in this world, without her. It felt like she planning on taking the air with her when she left, and now he just had to wait for the moment to come. “I love you,” He said, he was always saying. “Call me, okay? Or text Justin’s phone, he lets me use it sometimes.” 

“I will,” She promised, wet cheeks, puffy eyes. 

That would have to be enough. It would _have_ to be. 

He paused on his way out. He had to know. “Were you going to say goodbye?” 

She took a deep breath. “I was hoping you’d be asleep. I thought it would be… easier.” 

Love has never been easy, when it came to him. He’s known that for years, would hold his mother’s voice in his head for the rest of his life. 

"I get it," Buck told her, soft, and then went back to his bedroom to sob.

* * *

Two and a half weeks after the accident, after a brief paperwork period that made Buck so anxious he started _running_ again, he was walking back into the 118. 

This was always the worst part, returning to work after something happened, but he was too relieved to be back, to be home, to really care about every concerned, pitying look. 

They got a call an hour into their first from a nearby school. An elementary school teacher, who had been bringing up small groups of kids to the roof for a science project, had gotten locked out while doubling back to the staircase. In her panic, she accidentally broke the key off in the industrial lock, leaving a small group of third graders alone up there. 

The kids were fine, if a bit scared, and kept wandering around the space. One of the kids kept running up straight to the edge just to wave at them, making their teacher cry out each time. 

“We can’t just break through the door?” Someone asked. Hen shook her head. 

“The door’s reinforced, there’s no breaking that thing down easily.” 

“We need someone up there,” Buck thought out loud. Cap was working on angling the truck to line up the ladder but that was bound to take a few minutes, at least. Buck paused, looking over the side of the building. Eddie followed his gaze. 

Buck was the first to speak.

“The side -” 

Eddie didn’t pause, “Go.” He was already turning to Cap. “We’re trying the East corner, we’ll radio any updates.” 

Cap nodded, already caught up in the details of whatever Hen was feeding him, but no doubt noting everything Eddie said and mentally constructing plans around it. 

“The pipes,” Buck said as they approached, and Eddie was already striding forward, testing their hold. A series of metal pipes were lined up nearly along most of the building, only uncovered in small sections. They’d have to lift themselves up the last few feet, but it looked doable. 

“Get the -”

“Got it,” Buck answered, coming up to secure them in place. Eddie nodded at him and started to climb. Buck followed. 

Eddie got up first, stretching to smoothly pull himself up over the building ledge. Buck was doing good until the very end, when his bad leg suddenly spasmed slightly and he had to shift his weight away from it, grabbing onto the last pipe swiftly. 

Buck was quickly losing his grip. “Uh –“

Eddie was there in the next moment, reaching out to clasp his hand and pull him over the side of the building easily. Buck took a moment to regain his balance, rocking back on his heels, before nodding in thanks. 

“Hey,” Buck grinned at the nearest kid, small with flushed cheeks, a purple dress. “Everyone okay?” 

“You’re a firefighter,” One of the kids, dark hair with big eyes, stared up at them in awe. “That is _so cool.”_

Eddie was checking them over, down on his knee as they hesitantly approached, four of them in total. “Yeah, we are. Is anyone hurt?” 

“Hana got a papercut this morning.” One of them announced, pointing to the girl in the purple dress. She held up a single finger, already wrapped in a Hello Kitty band-aid. 

“Aw,” Buck got on their level, frowning dramatically. “That’s not fun. Anything else?” 

“No, we’re okay,” Hana told them. “But we were gonna play tag until Miss Taylor came to get us. Do you want to play?” 

He and Eddie shared a quick look. Right over the building, the truck was pulling off from the parking lot and coming through again, positioning itself. Eddie spoke to Cap, letting him know they made it up. 

“How about we play something else?” Buck tried, “How about Simon says? I’ll be Simon.” 

They agreed happily and allowed themselves to be distracted long enough that when Hen came upon the latter, they were able to strap them in and lead them down to the ground. 

After the commotion, Miss Taylor brought out the rest of her class to see the firetruck, with a few other teachers apparently planning to do the same. Cap was launching into an impromptu fire safety talk while the kids watched on with rapt attention, so excited and impressed Buck couldn’t help but laugh. 

Eddie came up beside him, smiling at the ripple of laughter the kids launched into at Hen’s interruptions. “How’s your leg?” 

Buck sighed, “It’s fine. Thanks for back there.” 

“‘Course,” Eddie replied, “Gotta keep you around to watch my back, right?” 

Eddie slapped his back as he walked away, joining Hen and Cap at the front of the group. 

Buck grinned down at the asphalt. He hated coming back after an injury, and he hated almost messing up because of one. But he had to admit it—Eddie, always giving him the same dry look and high expectations no matter the situation or job, was always something he’d be happy to come back to. 

* * *

A few flirty texts and an Uber across town and he was at Clem’s, again. 

They had finished a bit ago and were lazy with it. Buck hadn’t even felt the bed yet, drowsy and heavy in her bed, while she padded around to the bathroom, the kitchen, her rich voice talking all the while. Buck ran his hand over her blankets, the touch light, just to feel something. Her comforter was a light blush pink with little silver stars along the top—her apartment was so colorful and bright, he couldn’t help his want to linger for a bit every time he came over. She never seemed in a rush to kick him out afterward, usually would rant about one of her coworkers at her accounting office that Buck was convinced she had a crush on like she was now, and, in turn, listened carefully when Buck would talk about their latest call, the drama at the firehouse. They were more friends than lovers, at this point, but he sort of enjoyed it that way. 

“Anyway, after Jonah finally fixed the spreadsheet I way I told him, he had the gall to ask where I was pulling my data from! Like _I_ would be sloppy with the demographics.” Clem had brought a wine bottle and bowl of popcorn back to the bed, her colorful silk robe hanging open around her shoulders as she ranted, yelling through the house. Buck smiled up at her. “I swear, if he starts questioning me in front of our boss, that’s it, I’m going to confront him.” 

“You should,” He chimed in. “He sounds like an asshole.” 

She paused, wavering. “Honestly, he’s not an _asshole._ He’s just a horrible micromanager with trust issues. A nightmare to work with, but he’s not a bad person. I saw him helping Estelle to her car the other day, and I’d swear on my career that he’s the one who always anonymously pinches in an extra fifty when we’re doing office celebrations.” She threw herself back on the mattress, kicking her feet in the air behind her. “And he’s funny, when there isn’t some deadline he’s convinced he has to prepare for by himself.” 

Buck hummed, amused, and accepted the wine bottle she offered. She usually opted to sip straight of the bottle and Buck wasn’t in the slightest way picky. She pulled her braids back into a hair-tie, smiling at him all-sweet. She didn’t have stubble like Eddie, or dimples like Aaron, but she had the cutest mole on the underside of her chin, and a small scar on her bottom lip. Maybe one day, he’d find out how she got it. 

Clem’s place reminded him of Abby, sometimes. They both used the same kind of candles, he thought, something sweet like vanilla or sugar. He always thought of her, when he was here—the months he spent in Abby’s apartment as she left, where he’d wipe up the dust and sweep up the mess that was more him than anything left of her. His quiet, steady hope for the day she’d return, and how it dimmed every day she didn’t. He thought of how at the airport, she called him sweet and said she loved him and walked out of his life like it was the easiest thing in the world. It never seemed that hard, on the other end of a goodbye. 

He doesn’t blame Maddie for leaving, or Eddie for not loving him, but he wished it was as easy on the other side. 

“You seem down,” Clem observed out loud. “What’s going on?” 

Buck, who hadn’t thought he was acting any different than usual, blinked at her, “I’m… fine.” 

She hummed, flipping to her side so she could stare up at him. “Yeah? How’s your team, your sister?” She gave him a significant look. “Eddie?” 

She knew about Eddie, what he could manage to say. It was only slightly easier to talk to her, so absolutely separate from his actual life, but she knew more than most. 

When he didn’t respond, she tried a different angle. “What are you thinking about?” She asked, her voice soft. 

Buck, at his core, was an honest person. Or at least he tried to be. “I’m thinking about how I don’t know how to want like a normal person.” He traced his fingernail down the green glass of the bottle. “I don’t know how people do it. All I do is want.” 

She was watching him. “What do you want, Evan?” 

He bit his lip, shook his head. 

“I’ll go first.” She took a breath, picked at the blanket. “I want my family to be safe. I want my mom to stop worrying about me so much. I want to get a promotion so I can afford to take that trip to Ireland I’ve always wanted. I want Jonah to trust me at work. I want to keep my apartment clean and to finally bite the bullet and get a shelter dog. In a few years, I think I’ll want a few kids and someone to raise them with. I want to always have enough fruit to eat.” She looked up at him, big brown eyes. She was so beautiful. Buck could imagine so easily falling in love with her a hundred different times. “Your turn.” 

If he could let himself a list, he’d say he wanted his parents to have been kinder, Maddie to have stayed with him even when it was killing her, for so many to be have been a little gentler when breaking his heart. He wanted the 118 to be okay, his friends to be happy, for Christopher to be safe. 

He thought of Eddie and there was so much want there he couldn’t even hope to come up with the words. He thought of how Eddie’s grin widening just slightly when Buck walks in a room, Christopher’s chiming laughter, and how Eddie sometimes looks over at him when Buck’s making lunch, or when he’s playing video games with Chris, or when all three of them are crammed in some crowded restaurant booth and the waitress is reading over the specials, and sometimes Buck tricks himself into seeing want there, too. For so long, he’s wanted the attention and love of so fleeting many and the approval of dozens more. He’s stupid, not dumb, and knows he’ll want forever. 

He only managed a small laugh, “There’s too much.”

She slid off the end of the bed, rounded the corner to sit next to him. When he looked up, she reached out to cradle his face between her palms and stared at him like something sacred. “I don’t know who convinced you that you weren’t the exact right amount of yourself, but I know this.” Her thumb brushed his bottom lip. “They were a liar, and they wanted to hurt you. You didn’t deserve that, and I’m sorry you can’t fix that moment.” She leaned up to kiss his forehead, so tender and gentle. At this point, he was only a few more soft touches from bursting into a sob. 

She pulled back, still holding his face. “You’re exactly right, Evan Buckley.”

* * *

_"I wasn't mad at Maddie for leaving. She had to go. The house was killing her, and there was only so much I could do. And she was starting school soon, so I was kind of expecting it at one point. You know, when we were both stupid kids, I used to dream about her taking me with her. Or at least offering. I would have said no, I think. But I understand. She had to go, and I had to stay. It wasn’t easy, realizing that. But I wasn’t mad at her for leaving. I mean, I couldn’t blame her.”_

* * *

Eddie was put in charge of refiling the ambulance inventory once they got back, which meant Buck was doing the same. 

Eddie had been slightly off all-day, closing in himself at odd times despite Buck’s best attempts to keep him from doing otherwise. At this point, Buck was more there for entertainment than help, but Eddie never complained. 

Buck had been jokingly complaining about his sore legs, due to his recent running of the block, while Eddie counted up bandages and made marks on the form. 

“Albert and I have been going on runs together when we can. I usually go before a shift and, if he’s around, he joins.” 

“You and Albert have been close recently,” Eddie commented, focused on his clipboard. “Does Aaron mind?” 

Buck cocked his head to the side, “Aaron? What do you mean, would he mind?” 

Eddie looked up suddenly at that, his gaze sharp. “You and Aaron aren’t… dating anymore?”

Buck huffed out a small laugh, confused. “We weren’t dating. We were just hanging out.”

If anything, he just shut down more at that. “Right. I forgot you don’t do anything serious.” 

Buck paused, “What?” 

“I - nothing.” Eddie ran a hand over his face. “Just ignore me. I’m done here.” He said, hanging the clipboard on the hook and walking away. 

Buck followed, mixed up in confusion. 

“Eddie, wait, what are you talking about?” 

They were in the middle of the floor now, and they weren’t exactly whispering. 

“It’s -” People were staring at them. “Nothing. Forget about it.” 

He stalked off without another word, leaving Buck standing there. 

They only had an hour shift left, but Eddie seemed determined to keep out of his sight for all of it. It wasn’t until the very end he finally found him again, in the locker room with the rest of the crew as they grabbed their things. 

Chim came up beside Buck in the locker room, “Hey, you going to Athena’s tonight? Maddie and I can swing by and pick you up.”

Buck shook his head as he changed his shirt. “Nah, I can’t. Got plans.” Clem asked him to be her last-minute date to an office party so one of her annoying coworkers would finally stop hitting on her and Buck, who was honestly a bit eager to see how this Jonah guy was like in real life, had agreed without checking his calendar, where a notification for one of Bobby and Athena’s cook-outs was waiting. 

Clem had never asked him for a favor before, and it always warmed him a bit when people counted on him. One cook-out in exchange for helping out a friend seemed worth it, in the end. 

Except for how Eddie was glaring at his locker, now. 

“You’re canceling again?” Eddie asked, his voice tight.

Buck gave him a confused look, “It’s just a cook-out, right? We’re not celebrating anything?” 

It wasn’t anyone’s birthday, right? God, was it _Eddie’s_ birthday? 

Hen stepped in between them, heading to her locker. “It’s totally not a big deal, Buck. I think Bobby just wanted an excuse to try his new dry rub recipe out on a crowd. You can make the next one.” 

“Yeah,” Buck hesitantly agreed, watching Eddie. His shoulders were a tight, tense line, his expression stormy. 

“So what plans do you have instead?” Hen asked, conversationally. She was unlacing her work boots now, a pair of comfortable sneakers next to her. 

“Oh, uh, my friend asked me to be her date for a work thing. For an accounting firm,” He made a small shrug of his shoulders. “So it’s probably going to be very exciting.” 

Eddie turned his head toward him, “Wait, you’re skipping out on us for a date? Really?” He clicked his tongue, “Wow. Okay.”

“Eddie,” Chim suddenly spoke up, his voice firm. “Chill. It’s one cookout.” 

Eddie stared at Chim for a long moment before nodding once, slamming his locker shut, and stalking off. 

Chim’s hand came up to slap him on the back, pulling away just as quick. “I’ll let Maddie know you’re busy tonight. See you around.” Chim followed Eddie out, straight to the parking lot. 

Buck felt totally lost. He gave Hen, the only one left, a dazed look. “What the hell is his deal?” 

She shook her head, making a very clear _not my business_ gesture with her hands up. She walked away, leaving him more disoriented than ever. 

“What is going on?” He asked out loud to himself, shaking his head.

* * *

_Come over. Now._

Buck checked the text once again as he slammed the car door behind him, waving off the driver. He’d been having to Uber everywhere since the accident and hadn’t gotten around to dropping by the dealership yet. He had mostly planned on going with Eddie some time, but their recent tension had put those plans on the back burner for now.

He hardly made a second knock on the door when it was thrown open. Eddie didn’t waste a second in pulling him in, slamming the door behind him. Buck already felt breathless, from the tension sparking between them, Eddie’s tight hold on his wrist.

The last time they had sex like this was during Buck’s lawsuit and they barely shared a sentence between the both of them the entire time. As nightmare as that whole situation was, since then, he’d thought about that time more than one; the intensity, the fierceness. 

Buck was already so hard, it was almost painful. 

Eddie pushed him against the door hard and pressed his groin into Buck’s, who couldn’t help but drop his head back and groan. Unlike last time, Eddie didn’t move to immediately flip Buck over and work at his jeans—instead, he dropped his knees and palmed Buck through the denim, breathing hard. 

“Fuck,” Buck struggled to brace his footing, his legs already feeling loose. His hands came up to pull at Eddie’s hair. 

Eddie made quick work of his belt, jeans, and took him down smoothly. He usually made it last, made it slow while he opened his throat to him, but this time, Eddie used one hand to press down on Buck’s hips to keep him in place, wrapped the other one around the base of his dick, and slid his mouth down all the way to meet his cuffed fingers. 

Buck desperately grabbed onto the doorframe, clenched his fist around the polished wood. He cursed loudly. 

Eddie sucked him off, hard and desperate—greedy, almost, as he burned his hot gaze up at Buck from through his eyelashes. Buck hardly lasted more than a few minutes in total, even after he roughly pulled on Eddie’s hair to warn him, before his orgasm hit him hard and thoroughly, lighting up every inch of his body. 

“Fuck,” He breathed out, wide-eyed at the ceiling. He was only barely still standing up, Eddie’s hands on his hips keeping him in place. 

At that, Eddie straightened up and physically pushed himself against Buck on the wall. His arm came up across Buck’s still-hitching chest, holding him in place. 

Eddie leaned forward, not kissing him but almost. Buck felt pinned under his sharp, piercing gaze. “Yeah,” He breathed out against Buck’s lips. “I’m not done yet.” 

* * *

_“And I think Eddie and I are fighting? But I have no idea about what? We were normal one day, and the next he won’t look at me! And I mean, we did have sex, but it wasn’t like, normal? Like, it was very intense and angry. It was, uh, good though. Not that you need to know that, um, sorry. Anyway. Things are off with him and - and I’m worried. I feel like I can screw up with anyone else, but it’s different with him. I don’t know.” - a pause - “I think he might know. About me, how I feel about him and. I don’t think he’s okay with it. It’s just a thought, but I can’t stop thinking about it.”_

* * *

They had been missing each other all day. 

Eddie must have woken up on the wrong side of the fucking mattress that morning, because the moment he showed up for work, he had had it out for Buck. It wasn’t like Buck expected anything to be different after sleeping together once again but, Jesus, he wasn’t expecting it to get actively _worse._ And he _definitely_ didn’t expect it to translate into their work. 

From their very first call, it was a mess. 

When Buck turned left, Eddie turned right and completely missed whatever Buck meant for them to do. Eddie would glance, nod, and then do something stupid that Buck had been absolutely unprepared for whatever Eddie meant for him to wordlessly follow along with. He’d hold out his hand expectantly only to glance over his shoulder to see Eddie nowhere to be found. They spoke over each other, their brows furrowing with every misstep, with the tension only increasing with every sharp sigh, eyeroll. Even Cap saw it and split them up after only a few hours, but that didn’t solve the problem in the least. They were incredibly out of sync—and it was getting worse by the minute. 

At the tail-end of a shift, like they were at, there was always some light conversation but today, with Eddie and Buck sitting in frozen, pointed silence, it seemed no one had the energy. Of course, this only pissed off Buck more, that Eddie was acting like such a jerk, it was ruining everyone else’s day. 

Usually, he loved times like this, when they were all tired and worn enough to joke back and forth, but Eddie was acting exactly like he did those few weeks when Buck screwed up majorly with the lawsuit and no one would look him in the eye. Except Buck couldn’t remember exactly what he’d done this time, and everyone else seemed to be fine with him, and now he was almost as angry as Eddie. 

At least they didn’t have much of a shift left; it was right before the next crew was due to arrive, which mostly meant lingering around the house, fixing up the equipment, and praying a call wasn’t about to come in. He and Eddie, as they usually did, were charged with reeling up the industrial hose properly back into its bed. Hen was working quietly next to them, checking the storage compartments, while Cap was away in his office. Maddie was there too, which was nice, apparently waiting for Chimney to get off so they could head to some new Thai place; no doubt Chim would be complaining about them for at least twenty minutes. He already knew to expect a worried phone call around seven that night, after she would get home and settled in. 

Eddie pulled on the end of the hose again, making the plastic let out a sharp creaking noise. Buck let out a sigh, “You’re not doing it right. You have to lay it first, then work on -

“If you just hold that end properly, then I can -”

“That way won’t work, you have to fold the front diagonally -” 

“ - actually, I’ve been doing it this way since I started, so it has to work well enough -” 

“Boys,” Hen gritted out. “It’s a hose, not a goddamn puzzle. Figure it _out.”_

Buck glared at him. Great, now even Hen was fed up with them. Perfect. 

Buck ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. The end of the hour was quickly approaching, and Bobby wasn’t going to let any of them leave before the truck was done. “Whatever. Hen’s right, it’s not that hard. Let’s just do it your way, I have to get out of here soon.” 

Eddie didn’t move like Buck expected, only stared at him with a tight jaw. “Got plans after this or something?” 

Somehow, it didn’t seem like he was fishing for small talk. “Yeah?” 

Eddie narrowed his eyes at him, “Hot date?” 

He actually did have a Tinder hook-up set up for later, but he wasn’t going to mention that. 

Buck kept his voice cool. “Maybe,” He leaned in, “why, you interested?” 

He rubbed his hand roughly over his stubble. “Oh,” Eddie said, bitterness lacing his voice. “I should have known.” 

Buck shot him a look, angry and still confused by this whole situation. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You’ve just been so busy recently,” Eddie said tersely. “I can’t keep up with everyone you’re going through.” 

Behind them, Hen let out a rough cough. Buck paid her no attention. 

“What the hell?” Buck demanded, dropping the hose to his feet. 

“Nevermind,” Eddie dropped his end of the hose too and squatted to jump off the truck, leaving him behind to stalk off. “I’ll deal with this later.” 

Buck watched him go for one moment, two. Then he was jumping off right after him. “Hey! Do you have something to say to me?” 

Eddie laughed and did a lazy spin to face him, “I have so much to say to you, Buckley, but nothing I can say at work. Let it go."

Buck wasn’t giving up yet and stepped forward to slide in front of him. “Talk to me. What the hell is up with you?” 

He was grinning this tight, horrible thing. “What do you want me to say?” 

“I -” God, Buck wanted so much. “Tell me what’s going on with you. Why are you so pissed at me?”

Eddie stared him down, piercing. “Fine,” He snapped, almost in Buck’s face now. “You want me to talk? Fine! Christopher fucking misses you, that’s what’s up!” Eddie yelled, “He asks me all the time when you’re coming over, if you’re making pancakes in the morning or picking him up from school and - and he gets so upset when I say you’re not! Because you never do, you never have time for him anymore! You only have time for yourself and what _Buck_ wants.” 

Buck’s heart dropped. “I - I’m sorry. I didn’t know, I can come visit him -” 

“That’s not the fucking point!” He threw his hands in the air. “The point isn’t to show up only when he misses you, the point is to be there so he doesn’t!” 

Suddenly, they weren’t as alone as they felt. They were in the middle of the station, after all. 

“Excuse me,” Maddie was in between them now, crossing her arms. “First, I’m going to tell you to watch your volume. Second, are you seriously yelling at him because he can’t babysit all the time?” 

“Maddie -” Buck said quietly, his hand on her side to gently tug her away. “It’s fine -” 

_“Babysit?”_ Eddie demanded, “It’s Christopher!” 

Maddie stood her ground, glaring up at Eddie. “Yeah, and Buck isn’t his father!” Eddie and Buck both went stiff at that. “You’re acting completely irrational, getting so upset, and you have no right to yell at him! What, you’re mad because he’s busy? Really?” 

At Maddie’s words, Eddie folded back into himself, his anger drawing back like a retreating wave of water—just in time for a pair of boots to start bouncing down the staircase. 

“Hey,” Bobby stepped off and walked toward them, his voice calm and smooth as he took in the scene. “What’s going on down here?” 

Maddie was still glaring at Eddie, parked in front of Buck, and didn’t reply. Eddie looked at Bobby, then Buck, and sighed roughly. 

“Nothing, Cap.” He shook his head and started walking toward the showers. 

“Eddie?” Bobby didn’t raise his voice; he never needed to. “My office.” 

“It’s fine Cap, I started it -”

Bobby waved Buck off, his gaze on Eddie. Eddie, ever the soldier, smoothly redirected his stride toward Cap’s office.

Maddie’s hand was on his elbow in an instant. “What was that about?” 

He couldn’t face her. “Just stress. It’s fine.” He pulled away, gentle but insistent. There was no way he was leaving after that, not until he at least spoke with Eddie about what the _hell_ that was. He took a seat on one of the benches. 

Half an hour later, a few minutes after their shift officially ended when everyone was gathering their things to leave or settle in, Bobby’s door finally opened. He jumped to his feet as they both emerged. 

Maddie and Chim were still there, but barely, lingering by the truck entrance. Bobby gestured them forward.

“I just wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier.” Eddie started. His voice wasn’t monotone, he wasn’t that disrespectful, but Buck could easily catch the forced tension laying under each word. “I think some personal tension came bubbling up and I took it out on my team. I’m sorry.” He looked over to Maddie, softened just slightly. “I’m sorry for raising my voice. Won’t happen again, I swear.” 

Maddie had her arms crossed, “You don’t yell at my little brother.” She said, stern. “I may be pregnant, but I’m not afraid to fight you. Or have Chimney do it.” 

Chimney shot him an apologetic look as his arm curled around her waist. “Sorry man, I gotta go along with what she says.” 

Eddie shot them both a small, but real smile. It was nearly gone by the time he faced Buck. “Sorry for picking a fight. It wasn’t fair.” 

“It’s no problem,” Buck told him, serious. “Really.”

Eddie nodded stiffly. 

A moment later, Bobby clapped his hands together. “Alright, well, I think that’s everything. Make sure to grab the leftovers out of the fridge on your way out, and check your time cards.” 

There was general noise of agreement, as the rest of the team started shuffling out. Eddie turned to the lockers and Buck, helpless, could only fumble after him. He felt like one of those little toy dogs on a string, tripping over himself. 

“Eddie? Can we talk?” 

Eddie went straight to his locker to pull out his bag, stuffing it. “My mind’s been on other stuff recently.” He forced out, “And I’m sorry for taking it out on you. It wasn’t cool of me.” 

“It’s fine.” Buck stood there awkwardly, his hands in front of him. “You’re right, I haven’t been around much recently. I can come over later? To see Chris? I really am sorry -” 

“No, it’s fine,” Eddie shrugged, grabbed his bag, and started walking toward the front. Buck felt rooted to the spot, like the weight he carried around his back had suddenly dropped down to his feet. His voice was blank, nonchalant, but the look he threw over his shoulder was anything but. “Don’t worry about it. It's nothing serious, right?” 

* * *

_"Everything went bad so quick. I don’t understand why things can’t go back to normal, where I smile at him, he smiles back, and we get burgers after our shift. I’ll drop in the house and he’ll be making dinner, and we’ll ride to the station together. He’ll play his annoying dad rock music too loud. We’ll bicker over something stupid. I won’t even care when I have to go home and fuck a stranger, just to stop thinking about him for ten minutes. I’ll be happy to do it. I just miss him. I don’t even know what I did wrong.”_

* * *

“You’re not in trouble,” Bobby immediately said when Buck took a seat in his office. “I’m just checking in on you. How are you doing?” 

Buck, who always felt like he was one mess-up from being fired, did feel slightly comforted by that. He relaxed, shrugged, and only offered, “I’m fine. Things are going. How are you?” 

“Good. Great, even.” Bobby was wholly genuine in that, which nonetheless managed to cheer Buck just slightly. It was hard not to catch the stark difference between the Bobby he used to know, and the man he knew today. Both were great men, but only one smiled as easily as Bobby did these days. 

“So you and Diaz got in an argument last week.” Bobby continued, going straight for the jugular. “How are things going between you two?” 

Buck looked away; he was never a good liar. “I don’t know. It’s whatever.” 

Bobby raised both eyebrows, waiting. He would wait out all day for Buck to force the words out—he knew that from experience. 

Buck let out a sigh, threw himself back into his chair. “Eddie and I are fighting, I guess. I don’t know. I don’t know, okay? I don’t even know why he’s mad? He said it was about Christopher, but I have no idea! He just snaps at me all the time, and I don’t think he’s stressed? I mean, maybe he is and he doesn’t want to talk to me anymore?” He clenched at his chair. _"Does_ he just not want to talk to me anymore? That'll be hard, considering we're coworkers.” He huffed out a breath. “Good fucking luck with that.” 

He didn’t call him out for cursing, which meant this was more serious than Buck thought. He resisted the urge to squirm in his seat, like a little kid. 

“Have you tried talking to him?” 

Buck dropped his shoulders inward. “Yeah, I don’t think that something he really wants to do right now.” 

Bobby leaned back into his chair. “How did you guys patch things up last time? After the lawsuit? I know things were icy for a bit afterward.” 

“Last time,” Buck trailed off. “He told me I don’t think about other people before I make decisions, told me not to do it again, and that I was forgiven. Just like that. I don’t even remember what I said.” A thought occurred to him, “You’ve talked to him, right?” 

“We did have a conversation, yes.” 

He instantly perked up. “And? What did he say?” 

Bobby grimaced, “You know that’s now how this works.” 

“Anything! A hint, just - tell me what to do, based on what he’s said. He had to go into his reasoning for the fight, right? To you?” 

He shook his head slowly, stern and apologetic. Buck deflated in his seat.

But Bobby wasn’t finished yet. “And how’s your personal life going? You were seeing that bartender, right?” There was a kind glint in Bobby’s eye. “Was that anything?” 

He gave Bobby a dry, annoyed look, but answered. He was his Captain, after all. “My personal life is nonexistent. And no, it was casual.” Buck gestured to the air, “That’s how all my relationships end up, I guess.” 

Bobby hummed, thoughtful. “You know, I dated a man for a while.” 

Buck choked. “Please, no, I really don’t need -” 

“Just if you need to talk to someone,” Bobby said. Buck was getting slightly tired of hearing that phrase, like he wasn’t in secret therapy for that exact reason. “I might understand it better than you think.” 

Bobby stared at him, open and honest like he always was. Hiding things from Bobby was always miles more difficult than anyone else. 

Buck bit his lip, ran his finger down the chair handle. “What was his name?” 

Bobby smiled, fond and lost in something far away. “August. We were on the same Hockey team when we were in our twenties.”

Buck huffed a small laugh, “Hockey? Really?” 

“It was Minnesota, what do you expect? And Hockey meant working on a team. Couldn’t figure skate forever.” Bobby joked, then turned a few shades more serious. “I really loved him.” 

Buck didn’t know what to say to that, and the softness coloring Bobby’s expression. Thankfully, Bobby continued. “That kind of brotherhood, when you’re on the team together, made it a bit more difficult, I think. At first, it felt like things were blurring, like I was crossing some sort of line by just looking at him and loving him but,” Bobby shook his head, slowly. “There _was_ no invisible line. I wasn’t doing anything horrible by just feeling what I felt. And you know,” He shrugged, still smiling. “He felt the same.” 

“What happened?” Buck asked, something burning deep inside of him, something screaming. 

Bobby let out a small laugh, “It didn’t work out for us, obviously. We were just kids then. But I don’t regret a second of it. Being with him made me a better man in the long run, and now I’m with the love of my life.” Bobby settled his hand on Buck’s shoulder. “It meant something. It all means something, remember that.”

Buck had known for so long that he, that being with him, meant so little. It was impossible to believe, even coming from Bobby, that some so contradictory could be true. 

Still, it wasn’t like Bobby was known for opening up about his past. Buck cracked a small smile at him. “Thanks for the talk, Cap.” 

“It’s ‘Bobby’ after hours.” Like the old man he was, he ruffled Buck’s hair as he tried to dip away. “Come over for dinner, will you? Athena worries about you.”

 _“Just_ Athena?” 

Bobby fully ignored him. “I’m making your favorite for Sunday dinner. There’ll be a plate waiting if you can make it. I happen to know you’re off that day.”

“Sunday dinner,” When he was young, he used to roll his eyes at the stupid normal stuff he’d hear families doing—family vacations, dinners, get-togethers. It wasn’t until he was a bit older that he realized the stab of annoyance he felt at the mention of them was actually the deepest wanting, longing his body could conjure. “That sounds nice. I’ll be there.”

* * *

_Through the screen, Dr. Copeland nodded and set the end of her pen to rest on her lip. She paused for a moment in thought. “Evan, may I ask you something?”_

_A nod._

_“Tell me, what is so bad about your love?” She continued, “You’re throwing yourself through all these hoops to prevent yourself from truly loving the people in your life, from becoming emotionally intimate or vulnerable with them, but have you considered that the people in your life want to be loved by you? Do you think that perhaps your past experiences, like with your high school girlfriend or your mother or even with your sister leaving, those experiences could have clouded what you see yourself loving to be?” She leaned forward. “I want you to consider my question. What’s so bad about it? So terrible? How are you hurting them with it?”_

_He cleared his throat. “It’s a burden.” He said, “They’re going to move on at one point. And I won’t be able to and, and they’ll_ know.” _He swallowed. “I don’t want them to worry about it if they need to leave. They should be able to leave, without me being difficult about it.”_

_“And what if they don’t want to leave?”_

_“They will.”_

_She only nodded, not agreeing or disagreeing. He liked that about her_ _—_ _her nods were less_ “Yes, totally” _and more_ “I can see how you’ve gotten here.” _It felt less like he was trying to say the right thing at all times, and more just guiding her through what he was thinking._

_“So what if they know all this, know everything about you and your love, and they want it anyway?” She cocked her head to the side, “I think it’s only fair to give them that option.”_

_He shook his head, slow. "They won't," He replied softly. "They just won't. They'll leave, sooner or later. It's just how things go."_

* * *

“I know we’re fighting,” Buck said as soon as the door cracked open. “And I’m sorry for showing up out of nowhere. It’s just almost been a year since – since the tsunami and I haven’t been sleeping well and I can’t stop thinking about it and,” He forced himself to spit it out. “I need to see Christopher. I won’t wake him up, I promise, but can I please just see him? For a minute?”

A long stretch of silence. Buck stared through the cracked door, pleadingly. Forever ago, he may have just texted or, depending on the hour, let himself in. He had played with the house key Eddie had given him so long ago for almost ten minutes, the entire drive there. He’d never stood in this doorway for so long, not that he thought about it. 

Another few seconds and Eddie was sighing and stepping back, gesturing him in. Buck took a deep, relieved breath and hurried past, barely pausing to toe-off his shoes by the door. He made his way down the hallway and quietly opened the door at the end, covered in drawings. 

Chris was curled on his side, facing the doorway, buried in his fluffy blue comforter and holding his plush robot to his chest. His night light warmed the dim room with golden light, accompanying Chris’ little, quiet snores in the still, late evening. For the first time since he stumbled from his bed an hour ago, it felt like Buck could finally breathe again.

He couldn’t believe that horrible, empty day was nearly a year behind them, now. Sometimes, he still woke up frantic and terrified, with echoes of searing, pulsing pain in his feet, across his face, his hand coming up to grip at his neck.

He collected himself after a few minutes and wandered back down the hall, wondering if Eddie expected him to just lock up as he left. But Eddie was waiting for him in the kitchen, at the counter with two steaming mugs at the ready: hot chocolate, for both of them. Despite that, Buck felt his heart drop down his throat, straight into his stomach.

Eddie nodded at the lone cup across from him, and Buck took a hesitant seat. A long stretch of quiet.

“Can I just say I’m sorry for whatever I did?” Buck blurted out, not being able to stand it. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for hurting you, or making you upset, and that I haven’t been making enough time for Christopher.” He pulled the mug close to his chest, needing the warmth, and hunched his shoulders. “I’m sorry. Can we please go back to normal? You can yell at me or do whatever you need, please. I want to be okay with you again, I –“ He cut himself off before deciding to _screw_ it. “I _miss_ you. Let’s go back to ourselves.”

Eddie dropped his shoulders, defeated. “Buck, I don’t think our old normal is working for us anymore.” He corrected himself, “It’s not working for _me_ anymore.”

Buck swallowed. _He knows,_ his mind screamed. _He knows how you feel and he_ hates _you._

“Buck, this isn’t working because our ‘just casual’ thing isn’t that anymore. I know we feel differently for each other and I can’t do it anymore, okay? I’m sorry.” Eddie’s voice went rough at the end. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I would have been more careful but – but it did. So, we have to move on now.”

“I’m sorry,” Buck was crying now; he’s always worn his heart less on his sleeve, more tightened around his neck for all to see. “If I could, I would change how I felt. But I can’t. This is all my fault, I’m sorry, but we can fix it. That’s what we do, right? We fix things.” Buck swallowed, his words scraping hard against his tight, raw throat. “Let me try. Please.” 

Eddie wasn’t looking at him any longer, drawn in on himself. When he spoke, his voice was soft, defeated. “I talked to Cap. I think, for now, it’s better if I transferred to a different shift. He agreed.” It felt like a baseball bat just hit him upside the head. “I think it’ll be better if we just pretend none of this, us, really happened. We can just move on.”

“You’re my best friend,” Buck tried. “Don’t do this.”

“You can still visit Christopher,” Eddie continued. “I’ll talk to Carla about scheduling it. He loves you; I won’t take that from him.”

Buck’s voice was rough and didn’t know what else to say except, “He’s a great kid. I would do anything for him.”

Eddie nodded slowly, “I know.”

“I would do anything for him,” Buck repeated, stressing it this time. “Tell me what I need to do, Eddie. Tell me what will make this better. Anything, you name it.”

Eddie stood, carrying his still-full mug, and poured it down the drain. He set it in the sink, porcelain on steel, and faced away from him. “I think you should go.”

“What am I supposed to do without you?” Buck felt suddenly furious. “We’re a team, we’re supposed to have each other’s backs, that was a deal. Both or neither, what happened to that? What, you want me to pair up with Sticks? Chim? No one knows me like you do, I don’t trust anyone like I do you, so don’t fucking do this.” Buck was full-on crying messy tears down his face. And Eddie wouldn’t even look at him. 

“Lock the door on your way out.” Was Eddie’s only response, as he headed toward his bedroom and left Buck standing there in the kitchen, his hot chocolate not even cold yet.

* * *

_Dr. Copeland considered that. “Well, what if someone wants to stick around?”_

_Buck smiled, wry. “I’ll update you if that ever happens.”_

* * *

“Buck?” Maddie’s voice, anxious and slightly too loud, was the first thing he woke to. “Buck, wake up.”

He let out a long, tired groan and tentatively peeked his eyes open. It was much, much too bright and his headache was much, much too persistent. God, he was thirsty.

“Maddie, hey.” He wiped his hand over his face, feeling disgusting. “Nice to see you.”

She stared down at him in disbelief. “Buck, what are you doing? Why are you _asleep_ on my _doorstep?”_

“I was at a bar and had to walk home.” He rubbed at a sore spot on his neck, “Your place was closer.”

Maddie bent down to frown at him. She had a little wrinkle in between her eyebrows that only came out when Buck did something she found to be incredibly worrying or stupid. It was a pretty defined mark. “Why didn’t you get a taxi? Or call? Or, I don’t know, ring the doorbell so we could let you in?”

“Oh,” He sat up. “I lost my phone at the club. I didn’t want to wake you up.”

“So, you slept outside?” She demanded, “Buck, anything could have happened! What were you thinking?”

He blew out a puff of air, holding his hand up against the sunlight. “Well, the thing about tequila, is that you kind of stop thinking at one point.” He paused, squinted in thought. “Or was it whiskey?” From his pulsing headache, it was probably both. Drunk him was an idiot who was happy and willing to accept any drink no matter the contents.

“Oh, Jesus, Buck.” 

Chim was right over her shoulder, matching her worry, but bent down to help him up. “Why don’t you come in and jump in the shower, man? You'll feel better, I can grab some clothes for you.”

Buck nodded, shielding his face against the sunlight, and went along with it. He let them shuffle him toward the bathroom while ignoring their shared look of concern that guaranteed a conversation was happening wordlessly in front of him and waved off Maddie’s well-meaning instructions on using the shower, like he hadn’t lived here once. He shut the door, leaned his shoulder against it, and stared into the mirror. 

There was a trail of bruises down his throat that he didn’t remember getting—along with two folded up numbers on wrinkled receipts in his pocket. He took photos of both, saving them for later, before tossing them in the wastebasket. He was covered in something sticky with rogue glitter, and his shirt was completely ruined with a tear straight down the collar, like someone pulled at it too hard. He could already hear Maddie and Chim’s soft voices through the door, back and forth. 

In the shower, he cranked the knobs to their hottest settings, used too much of Maddie’s peach conditioner, and just barely managed to not throw up down the drain. 

Outside the door, Chim was generous enough to leave a pair of sweatpants Buck was almost sure were his own and an old, loose LAFD sweatshirt folded on top. He dressed slowly, running his hand down the sweater’s faded print. It advertised their Christmas toy drive a few years back—it felt like yesterday. It seemed impossible that the print could already be so cracked and separated. 

When he finally emerged, feeling a bit more decent and level-headed, Maddie was waiting for him in the kitchen. 

He took the water bottle she offered and cast a glance around the apartment. “Where’s Chim?”

“He takes Mrs. Lee to the Korean market Saturday mornings,” She gestured to the bar stool. With any chance at an easy escape gone, he took it. “It’s just us.”

He sighed, slumping forward, “Great.”

Maddie set down a mug in front of him, creamer already mixed in with the coffee like he took it. He nodded at her in thanks, taking a long, greedy drink. She didn’t hesitate to jump into it. 

“So, clubbing. You haven’t done that in a while.”

Buck rubbed at his temple with his free hand. “I go out all the time.”

She nodded, “Correction—clubbing until you pass out on my doorstep. That hasn’t happened in a while.”

“It’s nothing. It was just a night out.”

Maddie hummed, focusing in on him. “Sure,” She said, not particularly agreeing. “So, I think it’s time we talk about Eddie.”

Buck stood up, “I should get going -”

Maddie gently pushed him back to the chair, unimpressed. “I know you’re not working today, and you don’t even have a phone to call a ride. Sit.” 

He didn’t have any other option, it seemed. 

“You’ve been off for months.” She told him, matter-of-fact. “And every time you even hear Eddie’s name, you get squirrely. I think it’s time we talk about it.” Her uneasy frown faded a bit. She turned to grab her own coffee cup. “Listen to me. I get one single cup of coffee a day and today, I’m using it to talk over my brother’s love life, because I know I’ll need it. Now, start from the beginning, since I have a feeling that I’m missing out on a lot of it.”

Buck stared at her, his hangover making the whole situation several shades worse. Even now, heavily pregnant and almost two decades older, he could see flashes of her as a teenager, giving him that same concerned expression when he was becoming too wild as a pre-teen.

“I made a mess, Maddie.” He could only say, his voice rough. He dropped his head into his hands, taking a breath to keep his burning eyes at bay. “I don’t know what to do.”

She pushed his cup closer into his hands, stared him down with the tough, serious gaze that got her through each of life’s fucked-up curveballs. “You’re going to tell me everything, from the beginning, and then we’re going to figure it out. Together.”

Buck pushed his hand past the coffee cup and went straight for Maddie’s free one resting on the counter. She took his hand easily, a gentle, warm touch. She was going to be such a good mother.

He took a breath, “Technically, it started after the earthquake.”

* * *

Another shift, another few hours of Eddie avoiding him. 

It’d been a few days since the doorstep incident, and Chimney had finally just stopped giving him long, searching looks when he thought Buck wasn’t paying attention. He was sure it’d gotten around to most of the other crew members, judging from the similar attention from Hen and Cap. 

Talking through it with Maddie did help, a little, although she didn’t even muster up any surprise when Buck was finally finished with telling her everything he could. 

“There’s always been something between the two of you,” She said, shaking her head. “I just couldn’t put my finger on it. This makes sense.” 

Buck, who felt several different degrees of confusion about the situation, couldn’t agree. But it was nice to talk about it with her. Dr. Copeland was great, wonderful, but nothing could beat his sister’s high, surprised laugh when he’d manage to tell something just right, or her quiet touch of support when he needed it. 

He thought of that now, her steady love, as he stared up at the station’s gray ceiling. 

Eddie started his new shift next week; for the foreseeable future, he’d be on the alternate crew. It was a weird shift from the beginning, when Bobby announced the change during their crew announcements and it felt like every eye in the room went straight to Buck, knowing, blaming.

He worked with Chim the entire shift, while Eddie paired off with Sticks. It was okay enough—nothing great, but the worst tragedies of L.A. kept them out of its hands for now. He caught Cap watching him a few times while on a call, careful, and couldn’t even find it in himself to care.

They were back at the station now, had been for nearly an hour, waiting for something to come in. Buck had long since thrown himself across one of the empty couches, playing on his phone. Every time he heard a burst of laughter from downstairs, he felt like he was deflating a bit more. He wondered where Eddie was, if his laughter was joined with the group. It felt impossible.

Some days, he felt like a curse in a young man's body—bumbling along to only annoy, exhaust, ruin someone else. Today was one of those days, and all he wanted to do was go back to the loft and sleep. 

He thumbed through a dating app, sliding right idly until a notification came. _Stephanie likes you!_ It read, and Buck started typing out a message.

A few minutes after their shift was done with, a hand came down on his shoulder, squeezing. When Buck looked up, Hen was waiting with a soft smile. “Perk up, Buckaroo. Cap wants to see you.”

Buck tipped his head back, closing his eyes. “About?” 

He couldn’t see whatever face Hen was making, but he’d bet it was something deadpan and sarcastic. “Total mystery.” She patted his shoulder as she left. “Good luck.” 

He pulled himself up and dragged his body the short path to Bobby’s office, dread and knowing anticipation building in his gut. 

Bobby waved him in as soon as he hit the doorway, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk. Buck took it.

“Nice to see you. I’m just checking in after our conversation last week,” Bobby said neutrally. “I noticed you seemed off today.” 

“I’m fine.” 

Bobby hummed but, this time, didn’t jump into any questioning. He just stared at Buck, folded his hands on his desk, and let the silence do the rest. He was the closest thing Buck had to a father, he had long since realized. He was Buck’s first real family in L.A., the first person here to give a crap about him even when he didn’t deserve it.

Bobby gave him a small, knowing smile. 

Buck wasn’t dumb, but he wasn’t always stupid instead. It’d been years, and neither of them were exactly subtle, and Bobby’s entire job was to watch over them. If anyone in the firehouse had had a clue about them, it would be the man who found them at their bests and worsts, had them taped back together when they were broken, and made them a family in the first place. 

“Bobby?” He waited until the older man met his gaze. “Eddie and I have kind of been seeing each other. That’s why I’ve been so… mixed up, I guess.” 

Bobby nodded, as calm and collected as ever. “Thank you for telling me.” 

It was like floodgates, breaking open at the slightest crack. “Yeah. I’ve been pretty messed up about it. It’s not that serious for him. But it is for me.” He rubbed at his eyes, “It’s always too serious for me, I know. I always do this. But - but it’s _Eddie.”_ He stressed. “You understand, right? It’s _Eddie.”_

Eddie, who’d pulled him out of more disasters than he could count, who gave him a place in his home with his family, who looked at Buck like he saw something there worth the trouble.

"I’ve been in love with him forever, now,” Buck said, drained. “I always knew it wasn’t anything for Eddie, and that was fine, but I guess he wasn’t feeling it as much after knowing what I felt. Not that I blame him—it’s not like he wanted for this when we started. But I can get over it, I can try harder, he doesn’t have to _leave.”_ His voice took on a note of desperation, “The team - we can’t lose him. You have to talk to him, convince him to revoke the paperwork or something!” 

Bobby looked more thrown from all that than from Buck’s initial statement. Maybe he was starting to understand how tied up Buck was in on it, how _everything_ it had become. 

“Have you tried talking to Eddie about this?” Bobby asked gently. “Saying what you just said to me?”

“He knows,” Buck replied softly. “I’ve been so obvious, the entire crew probably knows by now.”

Bobby didn’t reply right away, which confirmed his worst suspicions. But the silence stretched on, and when Buck looked over, Bobby seemed entirely conflicted.

“Bobby?” He leaned forward, concerned. “You okay?”

“I haven’t submitted Eddie’s crew change yet,” Bobby said suddenly. “I have until this afternoon at five.” He gave Buck a side-way glance. “Talk to him. Use your words, all of them, and don’t assume anything. That’s as close to an order I can give you on personal business, got it?”

Buck got to his feet, “He hasn’t been switched yet?”

Bobby took a deep breath and smiled. “I guess I’ve been overwhelmed this week. Haven’t had time to get to it.”

Buck threw himself at him, a tight and fierce hug, however quick. “Thank you, Bobby. I have to go!”

Buck turned to rush out, got a little past the doorway, before he came to an abrupt stop. He made a face, turned on his heel. Bobby was watching him with a real, full smile on his face; it warmed Buck more than he thought possible. 

Buck bit his lip. He had one more favor to ask. “Actually… one more thing?”

...

 _Don’t crash Bobby’s car,_ he chanted to himself. _Seriously, don’t crash Bobby’s car._

The drive from the firehouse to Eddie’s place wasn’t bad, only ten minutes or so, but the afternoon L.A. traffic was nothing to be underestimated. He was stuck at a stop-still for almost twenty minutes, and he was still five minutes from his place. 

It was annoying, draining to be sitting on that much anticipation and nerves. But it did allow him to make a quick call. 

When he finally pulled up to the Diaz house, his heartbeat was in his throat. He turned off the car but, despite his hurry to get here, lingered. Eddie’s truck was in the drive, Chris’s old artwork in the windows. 

He flipped down the driver’s mirror and, to his surprise, a small piece of paper floated out with it. He picked it up and flipped it before really considering the action. Of course—it was all the Grants, caught in a laugh, squished together in the living room to fit in the frame. May was wearing a nice dress, her hair done up, clearly readying for some school dance. Bobby was at the end, his arm around her shoulder, grinning wide as can be. It was a nice photo of family, of hope; a reminder that tomorrow could be better, if he tried. 

Bobby had to work so hard for his new life. Every day, he still did. Buck could do this. 

He tucked the photo back and hopped out of the car without another moment of pause. He just had to convince him to stay. That would be enough. Buck had lasted for decades without love, he could make it another few. But Eddie _had_ to stay. 

He used the key, the first time in months, and purposely let the door slam after him. There was a brief, careful silence that followed. 

“I have some things to say, and I’m going to say them without getting upset,” Buck announced loudly, unlacing his boots at the doorstep and stepping out of them. “And I know you’re home because I asked Abuela. Where are you?”

Down the hall, there was a sigh. A creak of floorboards later, Eddie was standing in front of him, rubbing the back of his neck. He had already changed out of his work clothes into a pair of soft sweatpants, a plain white shirt. He seemed less angry like Buck had expected and more drained. Exhausted, really, the bags under his eyes more prominent than ever. As long as Buck had known him, he’d go insomniac at the slightest stress, staying awake hours after they both grew tired. 

He also looked utterly unprepared to see him, but still managed to raise both eyebrows in an attempt at nonchalance. “You called Abuela?” 

Buck tried to stand his guard—much more difficult than he expected, with Eddie sleep-rumpled and tired only a few feet away. His feet were bare on the wooden floors. “Yes. I wanted to see if you were home. If she had Chris.” 

Eddie blinked at him, “Why?” 

“Because I have some things to say.” 

A sigh. “Buck, if this is about my crew change -” 

“I have some things to say,” Buck repeated, his voice firm. “Okay? Just hear me out. Please.” 

Eddie closed his eyes for a brief moment. He nodded.

“I’m sorry,” Buck immediately said, because it was true. But also, “And I’m sorry that I’m not. I can’t be. This - this is how I am. I have a lot of feelings and I know they’re a lot.” Buck kept his chin up, his voice steady. “I never meant for you to get caught up in all of them. But you can’t leave our crew, Eddie. I can get over my feelings. After everything we’ve been through, I at least deserve a chance to prove that, before you try transferring. I can fix this. They won’t interfere with our work or – or our friendship, I swe -“

“What are you talking about?” Eddie interrupted, suddenly alarmed. “What feelings?”

“You know,” Buck blinked at him, not sure where he lost Eddie. “How I’m in love with you?” He cleared his throat, “I know it’s not what you wanted, but I can control myself. You can’t just leave like this, Eddie, we need you.”

“What?” Eddie breathed out, shell-shocked.

Buck made a noise of frustration. “What else can I say? I’ll do anything. I can’t stand the thought of you with another crew, who doesn’t know you like we do, I’ll keep my distance, I swear. Just stay with us.” 

Eddie stared at him. 

“We need to have each other's backs,” Buck tried again, “I can’t do that if -”

“Stop,” Eddie said. The firmness in his voice knocked his heart from his throat, straight into his feet. Buck went silent. 

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes. “What are you talking about? You’re in _love_ with me?” 

Buck opened his mouth, closed it. “Uh, yeah?” 

Eddie shook his head at him, “What the hell? When did that happen?” 

“What do you mean?” This conversation wasn’t going in any route that he’d come up with on his way over, worst-case scenario or not. “You didn’t know?” 

“Of course I didn’t know! What are you talking about?”

Buck.... didn’t know what was going on. “What do you _mean_ you didn’t know?" He had to look away, collect his thoughts. “I - then why are you leaving? If it’s not because of that?”

The weight on his shoulders was back, pressing down.

“Because,” There were only a few feet separating them—miles. Eddie cleared his throat. “I needed some space.”

“Space?” He questioned, “For what? Why?” 

“Well, I -” He exhaled, “Because I kind of fell in love with you, and I thought you very much didn’t feel the same? Maybe?”

 _What the fuck,_ he mouthed at the ground. He did it again, hoping it would make everything feel a bit more real. _What. The. Fuck._

He was still standing in the doorway. He rounded the corner to the couch, dropped into it just to hold his head in his hands for a few moments. Eddie followed, taking a seat at the other end. 

He seemed to be processing things as well. “Wait, you said we weren’t serious.” Eddie accused, “But then - ?” 

He dropped his hands, turning on the cushion to face him. “Yeah, the _first_ time we did anything! It’s been years!”

“I know,” Eddie hissed through clenched teeth. “Trust me, I know.”

There was a small silence, tentative. 

“Wait, so,” Buck swallowed, stiff with adrenaline. “What does this mean?”

Buck needed things spelled out for him sometimes, and Eddie never held that against him.

“It means,” Eddie took a trembling breath, “I guess it means things are different now. I had no idea.”

“You had no idea?” His confusion was written all over his voice, his expression. “I thought that’s why you ended things, that you didn’t want to get caught up in my feelings.”

“No, I,” Eddie cut himself off. “I was being stupid.” 

Buck stared at him. He made a _go-on_ gesture. 

Eddie reached out to him, his hand on Buck’s chin. It was the first time he touched Buck so softly in weeks. Buck was already lightheaded with it. “Buck... I - You’re so free, and you’re so good, and I never wanted to force you into something you didn’t want. I thought it was better for everyone if I just kept it down. Tried to move on.”

Buck stared at him, wide-eyed with being on the cusp of something. “What do _you_ want, Eddie?” 

He huffed out a breath, like the question was impossible. “So much I have a speech for it. Fuck, I’ve been practicing it for so long.” Eddie breathed out. “Years, probably. I’ve forgotten most of it, mostly because it felt sometimes like I didn’t even need it anymore, when I already had what I wanted.” Buck’s mouth was completely dry.

His thumb traced Buck’s eyebrow, over the mark his mother hated so much. “Okay, here we go. You have supported me and my son through the hardest times of our lives and every day you’ve been in my life, you’ve made it better. I don’t know where I would be without you, and I don’t want to imagine it. I like my life so much better with you in it.” Eddie nodded, like he was agreeing with himself. “I love you.” He added plainly, precisely, like the most obvious truth in the world. “And I want you to be with me, only me, and I want us to build something that lasts. For each other, for Christopher, and our family.” He cleared his throat, evened out his voice. “What do you want?”

Buck hardly managed it. “I want to be with you.”

That all he needed, it seemed, before Eddie was reaching out to pull Buck right where he belonged, pressed up against his chest, their lips finding each other in the mess. 

He was shaken to his core, to the down to whatever made him _him_ , and Eddie was shifting onto the couch cushion next to him, his hands everywhere—in Buck’s hair, along his chest, shoulders, jawline. Buck sunk into it, greedy with both hands open. 

Eddie pulled away, and his face was soft and surprised, his mouth slightly open. “I - bed?” 

Buck scrambled off the couch, grabbed Eddie’s hand to lead him back down the hall. “Bed.” 

Later, in Eddie’s bed, Buck was still riding on the high of it all. 

“Holy shit,” Buck ran a hand over his face. “We have to tell everyone. I mean – other than Bobby, no one’s going to believe it.” 

Eddie lifted his head from the pillow just to squint at him. “What?”

“Just that we’ll have to tell the crew, right?” He stretched, “I can’t wait to see their faces.” 

There was a small pause. 

“You’re one of the smartest people I know,” Eddie replied in disbelief. “But what the hell are you talking about?”

The compliment hit him like lightning, but he managed to splutter through a response. “I – just that no one will believe it?”

Eddie looked back, eyebrows up. “Are you kidding me? Are you joking?” 

“Uh. No?” 

Eddie sat up, the sheet falling from his shoulder. “Buck, you know that everyone in the firehouse knows about us, right?” 

“What?” He blurted. “Did you tell them? I mean, that’s fine -” 

He was laughing now, into Buck’s shoulder. “Oh my god. I didn’t _have_ to tell them, man. They kind of figured it out.” 

“I guess Hen makes sense,” Buck thought it over. “Probably after the accident?” 

“We did kiss in front of her,” Eddie allowed. “But I’m pretty sure it was long before that. I think Chim’s been trying to give me the shovel talk for like a year now.” 

_“Chim_ knows?” 

“Buck,” Eddie reached over to tip his chin down, kissing softly. _“Everyone_ knows.” 

He paused, “Even Athena?” 

_“Especially_ Athena.”

Buck laughed, sliding through the sheets to end up back on his side, curled into his side. 

“Well,” He said, “I guess that just leaves one person to tell.” 

“Who?” 

Buck grinned into the pillow, “Christopher.” He paused, “And I think we both know what you’re gonna have to do.” 

Silence. Then, a groan. 

“Yeah,” Buck ran his hand along his bare back, a comfort. “I’ll start looking it up.” 

* * *

A week later, to the minute exactly, Buck was leaning against the Diaz back door, watching with a grin as Eddie added the final touches to the backyard decorations. Blue and green streamers burst off into every direction, matching plastic tablecloths over every surface, and a large paper mache robot hung off one of the tree branches, swaying in the wind. The grill was already fired up, waiting for Bobby’s soon arrival. They already had enough food to feed the entire fire station, Abuela was bringing more, and Eddie was still concerned they wouldn’t have enough. 

He stepped onto the porch step. He held up his phone at Eddie’s attention. “Pepa just called, there was a small mishap with the cake. Everything’s fine, but they’re gonna be a little late.” 

“Great,” Eddie muttered. “That’ll push the gifts back, what, half an hour?”

“Which will be fine,” Buck pointed out. “Considering it’s a party for middle-schoolers, and none of them will care if they get extra time on Chris’ Playstation.” 

He gave Buck a dry look as he wandered over to the porch edge where Buck was lingering. “I’m more worried about _certain gifts_ keeping hidden for another full half an hour." 

“Mm, I’m sure.” Buck leaned in, pressed his lips behind Eddie’s ear. “When’s Adriana getting here? Did pick-up go okay?” 

Eddie’s arm came up to loop around his waist. “Twenty minutes. And I think so, she didn’t mention anything on the phone. She just keeps sending pictures. Did you set everything up?” 

“Yup. The crate’s in the garage, but I left the food in the Jeep.” Buck smiled, “Don’t want to risk spoiling the surprise.” 

“I can’t believe we’re doing this.” He ran a hand over his face. “We are not naming it after a person. I’ve got to draw a line somewhere.” 

Buck already had the perfect name in mind—and he knew Chris would side with him without hesitation, if only to bug Eddie. “We’ll see.” 

“I’m telling you right now, if you try -” 

Buck interrupted him in his favorite way, a firm lean-down that instantly deepened into something more. His arms found themselves on Eddie’s shoulders, light but sure as they crossed, his wrists meeting behind Eddie’s neck. 

Behind them, the doorbell sang out its two-tone chime. Buck smiled against his lips, pulling back just barely. “That’ll be the family. You ready for this?” 

With Buck on the porch step, Eddie really had to tip his head back to look up at Buck. Against the sun, his eyes went golden whiskey-brown, his features soft. He was radiant with it, the sun and good weather and being in love, and he was gazing up at Buck like he saw the same thing right back. 

“Yeah,” Eddie said softly. “I’m ready.” 

* * *

_“You know,” Dr. Copeland pointed out, “For some, finding opportunities for love isn’t difficult at all, but the allowing others to love them back is where they struggle. It doesn’t mean they’re any less worthy of love, just that they approach it differently. Do you think that would be possible?”_

_Buck sat quietly with that for a long minute, “I guess.”_

_“Me too.” She smiled, “I think we’ve made some incredible progress today, Evan. Same time, next week?”_

**Author's Note:**

> Hen, as soon as she gets home every day: Karen, you’re not going to believe what they did today.  
> Karen, who’s been waiting for this since yesterday’s update: do tell.  
> as a captain, the only downside to performing marriage counseling for your 2 team idiots is that, morally, you Cannot interfere  
> *gestures to all of buddie's canon interactions* no way these two ain't fuckin  
> also my biggest shame as a person is that i am Physically Incapable of making pancakes.  
> let me know if you enjoyed!! i went crazy trying to get this out before epi 4 ahh!! i also edited this while I'm supposed to be WFH so PLEASE let me know if there's any glaring mistakes i missed. thanks for reading!!  
> follow me on tumblr at rosyredlipstick or buckleybalms ! <3


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